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IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


THE 

World^s War Series 

By COLONEL JAMES FISKE 

FIGHTING IN THE CLOUDS FOR FRANCE 
FACING THE GERMAN FOE 
ON BOARD THE MINE-LAYING CRUISER 
UNDER FIRE FOR SERVIA 
THE BELGIANS TO THE FRONT 
IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 

Each a stirring tale of adventure amid the 
scenes of the great European conflict. 

Bound in Cloth, 12mo, illustrated. 

Postpaid price, $.50 each 

THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO., 
Akron, Ohio 



World’s War Series, Volume 6 

In Russian Trenches 

BY 

Colonel James Fiske 

lUustrated by E. A. FURMAN 

THESAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO AKRON. OHIO NEW YORK 




copyright, 1916 

By 

Tile Saalfield Publishing Companfr 


JUN -4 1915 

©CI.A401233 

Xt- ! ' 


CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

I The Border 11 

n Under Arrest 25 

m A Strange Meeting 37 

IV Cousins 49 

V The Germans 61 

VI The Tunnel 73 

Vn A Daring Ruse 85 

Vm Within the Enemy ^s Lines 99 

IX There ^s Many a Slip ** Ill 

X Sentenced 125 

XI The Cossacks 137 

Xn The Trick 151 

Xin The Escape 165 

XIV Altered Plans 179 

XV A Dash Through the Night 193 

XVI Between the Grindstones 205 

XVn An Old Enemy 217 

XVm The Great White Czar 229 


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In Russian Trenches 


CHAPTER I 

THE BORDER 

A train had just come to a stop in the border 
station of Virballen. Half of the platform of that 
station is in Russia ; half of it in East Prussia, the 
easternmost province of the German empire. All 
trains that pass from one country to the other stop 
there. There are customs men, soldiers, policemen, 
Prussian and Russian, who form a gauntlet all 
travelers must run. Here passports must be shown, 
trunks opened. Getting in or out of Russia is not 
a simple business, even in the twentieth century. 
All sorts of people can T come in while a good many 
who try to get out are turned back, and may have 
to make a long journey to Siberia if they cannot 
account for themselves properly. 

This train had stopped in the dead of night. 

11 


12 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


But, dark and late aS it was, there was the usual 
bustle and stir. Everyone had to wake up and 
submit to the questioning of police and customs 
men. About the only people who can escape such 
inquisition at Virballen or any other Russian 
border station are royalties and ambassadors. 
Most of the passengers, however, didn’t have to 
come out on the platform. In this case, indeed, 
only two descended. One of these was treated by 
the police officials with marked respect. He was 
the sort of man to inspire both respect and fear. 
Very tall, he was heavily bearded, but not so 
heavily as to prevent the flashing of his teeth in a 
grim and unpleasant smile. Nor were his eyes hid- 
den as the rays of the station lights fell upon them. 

He was called “Excellency” by the policemen 
who spoke to him, but he ignored these men, save 
for a short, quick nod with which he acknowledged 
their respectful greetings. His whole attention 
was devoted to the boy by his side, who was look- 
ing up at him defiantly. This boy won a tribute 
of curious looks from all who saw him, and some 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


13 


glances of admiration when it became increasingly 
plain that he did not share the universal feeling 
of awe for the man by his side. This was ac- 
counted for, partly at least, it might be supposed, 
by the fact that he wasn ’t a Russian. The Ameri- 
cans in the train, had they been out on the plat- 
form, would have recognized him at once for he 
was sturdily and obviously American. 

The train began to move. With a shrill shriek 
from the engine, and the banging of doors, it glided 
out of the station. Soon its tail lights were swing- 
ing out of sight. But the Russian and the Ameri- 
can boy remained, while the train, with its load 
of free and cheerful passengers, went on toward 
Berlin. 

“You wouldn’t let me take the train. Well, 
what are you going to do with me now?” asked 
the boy. 

His tone was as defiant as his look and if he was 
afraid, he didn’t show it. He wasn’t afraid, as a 
matter of fact. He was angry. 

The Russian considered him for a moment, say- 


14 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


ing not a word. Then he called in a low, hushed 
tone, and three or four policemen came running up. 

“You see this boy?’^ he asked. 

^ ‘ Yes, excellency. ’ ’ 

“It has pleased His Majesty the Czar, acting 
through the administration of the police of St. 
Petersburg, to expel him from his dominions. 
He is honored by my personal attention. I in 
person am executing the order of His Majesty. 
I shall now conduct him to the exact border line 
and see to it that he is placed on German soil. His 
name is Frederick Waring. On no pretext is he to 
be allowed to return to Russian soil. Should he 
succeed in doing so, he is to be arrested, denied 
the privilege of communication with any friend, 
or with the consul or ambassador of any foreign 
nation, and delivered to me in Petersburg. You 
will receive this order in due form to-night. Un- 
derstood?” 

“Yes, excellency. ’ ’ 

“Photographs will be attached to the official 
order.” He turned again to the boy, and for just 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


15 


a moment the expressionless mask was swept from 
his eyes by a look of fierce hatred. ^‘Now, then, 
step forward ! As soon as you have passed the line 
on the platform you will be on German territory, 
subject to German law. I give you a word of 
good advice. Do not offend against the German 
authorities. You will find them less merciful than 

*‘I^m not afraid of you,’’ said Fred. He was 
angry, but his voice was steady nevertheless. 
‘^You’ve cheated me. You’ve had my passport 
and my money taken from me. What do you 
think I can do, when you land me in a strange 
country in the middle of the night, without a 
kopeck in my pocket? But I’ll find a way to get 
back at you. Any man who would treat me the 
way you have done is sure to have treated some 
other people badly, too. And I’ll find them — per- 
haps they’ll be stronger than I.” 

‘‘Your papers were confiscated in due process,” 
said the Russian. He smiled very evilly. “As 
for your threats — pah! Do you think your word 


16 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


would carry any weight against that of Mikail 
Suvaroff, a prince of Russia, a friend of the Grand 
Duke Nicholas and General of the army?’’ 

‘ ‘ Oh, you ’re a great man, ’ ’ said Fred. ‘ ‘ I know 
that. But you’re not so great that you don’t have 
to keep straight. You may think I had no busi- 
ness to come to Russia. Perhaps you are right, 
but that’s no reason for you to treat me like this. 
After all, you’re my uncle — ” 

‘‘Silence I” said Suvaroff harshly, startled at the 
carrying power of the boy’s voice. 

Fred stepped nimbly across the line. 

“You can’t touch me now, by your own word!” 
he taunted. “I’m in Germany, and your author- 
ity stops at the border! I say, I could forget 
everything except the way you’ve put me down 
here in the middle of the night, without a cent to 
my name or a friend I can call on! You needn’t 
have done that. I don’t suppose you took my 
money — you don’t need it — ^but you let your under- 
lings take it.” 

“I do not know that you ever had the money 


IN RUSSIAN TRENOIES 


17 


yon say was taken from yon,’’ said Snvaroff, con- 
trolling himself. ‘ * It is easy for yon to make snch 
a charge. Bnt the officers who arrested yon deny 
that they fonnd any money in yonr possession. 
There is no reason to take yonr word against 
them.” 

Fred stared at him cnrionsly for a moment. 
‘^Geel Yon do hate ns — and me!” he said, 
slowly. “I think yon really believe all yon’ve 
said abont me! Well, I’m glad if that’s so. It 
gives yon a sort of excnse for behaving the way 
yon have to me. And I’d certainly hate to think 
that any relative of mine conld act like yon nnless 
he thonght he was in the right, anyhow I” 
SnvarofP strangled with anger for a moment. 
His cmel eyes became narrow. 

‘‘I have changed my mind I” he cried, snddenly. 
* ‘ Seize him ! Bring him back ! ’ ’ 

Fred stood perfectly still as two or three police- 
men and a conple of soldiers in the white nniform 
coats of Rnssia came toward him. He knew that 
it would be nseless either to mn or to fight. Bnt, 


18 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


as it turned out, there was no need for him to do 
either, for from behind him a sharp order was 
snapped out by a young man who had been listen- 
ing with interest. Quietly a file of German sol- 
diers with spiked helmets stepped forward. 

‘^Your pardon, excellency,’’ said the German 
officer. “It is, of course, quite impossible for us 
to permit Russian officials or soldiers to make an 
arrest on our side of the line ! ’ ’ 

“A matter of courtesy — ” began Suvaroff. 

“Pardon again,” said the German, very softly. 
“Just at this moment courtesy must he suspended. 
With a general mobilization in effect upon both 
sides — ” 

Suvaroff suppressed the angry exclamation that 
was on his lips. For a moment, however, he 
seemed about to repeat his order, though his men 
had halted at the sight of German bayonets. 

“I should regret a disturbance,” said the Ger- 
man, still speaking in his quiet voice. “My 
orders are to permit my men to do nothing that 
might bring on a clash, for just now the firing of 


IN RUSSIAN TRf^NCIIES 


19 


a single shot would make war certain. Yet there 
is nothing in my orders to forbid me to resist an 
act of aggression by Russia. We are prepared 
for war, though we do not seek it. ^ ^ 

Fred, almost losing interest in his own pressing 
troubles at this sudden revelation of a state of 
affairs of which he had known nothing whatever, 
looked fixedly at Suvaroff. He saw the Russian 
bite his lips, hesitate, and finally take off his hat 
and make a sweeping bow to the German officer. 

^ ‘ I agree, mein herr Lieutenant, ^ ’ he said, mock- 
ingly. ^‘The time has come, I think. It may be 
that the fortunes of war will bring us together. 
Meanwhile I wish you joy of him you have 
saved ! ’ ^ 

The German did not answer. He watched the 
departing Russians and then, smiling faintly, he 
turned to Fred. 

‘H’il have to ask you to give some account of 
yourself, if you please,’^ he said, in excellent Eng- 
lish. ‘Hhn Lieutenant Ernst, of the Prussian 
army. Sentenced to guard duty here — for my 


20 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


sins. Now will you tell me what all this means? 

had a passport/’ said Fred directly, and 
meeting the German’s eyes frankly. Prince 
SuvaroU is my uncle, my mother’s brother. Her 
family refused to recognize my mother after her 
marriage to my father, and so Prince Suvaroff does 
not like me. I had to see him on business and fam- 
ily matters. I was arrested. My passport and 
my money were taken away from me — and you saw 
what happened. He took me off the train and put 
me across the border. ’ ’ 

Ernst nodded. 

‘^Things are done so in Russia — sometimes,” 
he said. ^‘Not always, but they are possible, for a 
great noble. Well, I have seen things nearly as 
bad in my own Prussia! I shall have to see what 
may be done for you. If you reach Berlin, your 
ambassador will be able to help you, yes?” 

am quite sure of it,” said Fred, eagerly, 
don’t want to trouble you, but if you could help 
me to get there — ” 

A soldier interrupted him. He stepped up to 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


21 


Ernst, sainted, and, permission given, spoke in the 
officer’s ear. Ernst started. 

'‘One minute,” he said. "I am called away — 
I will return in one minute.” 

The minute dragged itself out. In all direc- 
tions there was a rising sound, confused, urgent. 
Fifteen minutes passed. Then a soldier came to 
Fred. 

"The lieutenant mil see you inside,” he said, 
gravely. 

Fred followed him. Ernst, his face sober, but 
with shining eyes, spoke to him at once. 

"War has been declared,” he said. "War be- 
tween Germany and Russia! My young friend, 
you are in hard luck! The train from which you 
were expelled is the last that will even start for 
Berlin until the mobilization is complete.” 

Outside there was a sudden rattle of rifle fire. 
Fred stared at the German officer. 

' ' That is the beginning, ’ ’ he said. "We happen 
to have the stronger force here. We are taking 
possession of the Russian side of the border sta- 


22 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


tion! I wish we might catch Suvaroff — he is a 
good soldier, that one at least, and worth a divi- 
sion to the Russians. But there’ll be no such luck. 
He’ll have got away, of course — a fast motor, or 
some such way. And they’ve got more troops 
close up than we have.” 

And still Fred stared. He seemed unable to 
realize that this popping of rifles, this calm, un- 
demonstrative series of statements by an unex- 
cited German ofiicer, meant that war had come 
at last — the European war of which people even 
in America had talked for years as sure to come! 

As for you, I meant, of course, to lend you the 
money and let you go on to Berlin,” said Ernst 
‘‘Now I can lend you the money, but there will be 
no trains. You can’t stay here. The Russians, 
I think, will advance very quickly, and it will not 
be here that we shall try to stop them, but further 
back and among the lakes to the south. Even if 
there is a concentration, however, foreigners will 
not be wanted. ’ ’ 

“What shall I do?” asked Fred. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


23 


‘‘You speak German?^^ 

“Yes.’’ 

“Then I shall lend you some money — what I 
can spare. You can start back toward Koenigs- 
berg and Danzig. Your consul will be able to help 
you. You can walk and the people will gladly 
sell you food.” 

‘ ‘ Yes, and thank you for the chance. I ’m a Boy 
Scout; I won’t mind a hike at all.” 


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V 


CHAPTER n 


UNDER ARREST 

So it was arranged for Fred Waring, thousands 
of miles from home, to start from Virballen. The 
lieutenant who had saved him from Suvaroff lent 
him what money he could spare, though all told 
it was less than a hundred marks, which is twenty 
dollars. 

Good-bye, and good luck go with you,’’ said 
Ernst. ^ ^ If we do not meet again it will be a real 
good-bye. If you can send the money back, let 
it go to my mother in Danzig. If you cannot, do 
not let it worry you! If any people ask you 
questions, answer them quickly. If any tell you 
to stop, stop ! Remember that this is war time and 
every stranger is suspected. You will be in no 
danger if you will remember to answer questions 
and obey orders.” 

‘‘Thank you again — and good-bye,” said Fred. 
He had known this German officer for only a few 

25 


26 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


minutes, but be felt that he was parting from a 
good friend, and, indeed, he was. Not many men 
would have been so considerate and so kindly, 
especially at such a time, to a strange boy from a 
foreign land, and one, moreover, who had cer- 
tainly not come with the best of recommendations. 
‘ ‘ I — I nope you T1 come through all right. ’ ^ 

^^That^s to be seen,’^ said Ernst, with a shrug 
of the shoulders. ‘^In war who can tell? We 
take our chances, we who live by the sword. If 
a Russian is to get me, he will do so, and it will not 
help to be afraid, or to think of the chances that 
I may not see the end of what has been begun to- 
night! We have been getting ready for years. 
Now we shall know before long if we have done 
enough. The test has come for us of the father- 
land.^^ 

And then Fred said a bold thing. 

‘‘I can wish you good luck and a safe return. 
Lieutenant, ’ ^ he said. ‘ ^ But I can T wish that your 
country may be victorious because my mother, 
after all, was a Russian.’^ 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


27 


‘‘I wouldn^t ask that of you,' ’ said Ernst, with 
a laugh. ‘‘Even though it is Prince Suvaroff^s 
country, too ? ’ ’ 

“There are Germans you do not like, I sup- 
pose — who are even your enemies,’’ said Fred. 
“Yet now you will forget all that, will you not?” 

“God helping us, yes!” said Ernst. “You are 
right. Your heart must be with your own. But 
you don’t seem like a Russian, or I would not be 
helping you.” 

Then Fred was off, going on his way into the 
darkness alone. Ernst had told him which road 
to follow, telling him that if he stuck to it he would 
not be likely to run into any troop movements. 

“Don’t see too much. That is a good rule for 
one who is in a country at war,” he had advised. 
‘ ‘ If you know nothing, you cannot tell the enemy 
anything useful, and there will be less reason for 
our people to make trouble for you. Your only 
real danger lies in being taken for a spy. And if 
you are careful not to learn things, that will not 
be a very great one. ’ ’ 


28 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


Fred was not at all afraid, as a matter of fact, 
as he set ont. Before he had stepped across the 
mark that stood for the border he had been hugely 
depressed. He had been friendless and' alone. He 
had been worse than friendless, indeed, since the 
only man for many miles about who knew him was 
his bitter enemy. Now he had found that he could 
still inspire a man like Ernst with belief in his 
truthfulness and honesty, and the knowledge did 
him a lot of good. And then, of course, he had 
another excellent reason for not being afraid. He 
was entirely ignorant of the particular dangers 
that were ahead of him. He had no conception 
at all of what lay before him, and it does not re- 
quire bravery not to fear a danger the very 
existence of which one is entirely without knowl- 
edge. 

The idea of walking all through the summer 
night, as Ernst had advised him to do, did not 
seem had to him at all. As a scout at home, he had 
taken part in many a hike, and if few of them had 
been at night, he was still thoroughly accustomed 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 29 

to being ont-of-doors, without even the shelter of 
a tent or a lean-to. Nor was he afraid of losing 
his way, for as long as the stars shone above, as 
they did brilliantly now, he had a sure guide. 

Fred wasn’t tired, for he had enraged Suvaroff, 
who had seemingly wanted him to be frightened, 
by sleeping during the journey to Virballen when- 
ever he could. It had been comfortable enough 
on the train; he had not been treated as a prisoner, 
but as a guest. And he had, as a matter of fact, 
been aroused only an hour before the train had 
reached the frontier. 

So he had been able to start out boldly and con- 
fidently. In the country through which he was 
now tramping the nights are cool in summer, but 
the days are very hot. So Fred had made up his 
mind, as soon as he understood that he had a good 
deal of walking before him, to do as much of his 
traveling as was possible by night, and to sleep 
during the day. In East Prussia, as in some parts 
of Canada, the summer is short and hot; the winter 
long and cold. 


30 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


There was nothing about the silent countryside, 
as he tramped along an excellent road, to make 
him think of war. The fields about him seemed to 
be planted less with grain; they were very largely 
used for pasture, and he saw a good many horses. 
He remembered now that this was the great horse 
breeding district of Germany. Here there were 
great estates with many acres of rolling land on 
which great numbers of horses were bred. It was 
here, he knew, that the German army, needing 
great numbers of horses every year, found its 
mounts. 

‘^TheyTl need more than ever now,’’ he thought 
to himself. ‘ ‘ If there ’s really to be war, I suppose 
they’ll take every horse that’s able to work at all, 
whether it’s a good looking beast or not. Poor 
horses! They don’t have much chance, I guess.” 

He thought of the Cossacks he had seen in Rus- 
sia, wiry, small men, in the main, mounted on 
shaggy, strong, little horses, no bigger in reality 
than ponies. He had heard of the prowess of the 
Cossacks, of course. They had fought well in the 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


31 


past in a good many wars. But somehow it seemed 
rather absurd to match them, with their under- 
sized horses, against magnificent specimens of 
men and horseflesh such as the German cavalry. 
He had passed a squadron of Uhlans, near Virbal- 
len, outlined against the sky. They had been grim 
and business-like in appearance. But then the 
Cossacks were that, too, though in an entirely dif- 
ferent way. 

wish I had someone along! he thought, at 

last. 

That was when the dawn was beginning to 
break. Off to the east the sun was beginning to 
rise, and in the grey half light before full day there 
was something stark and gaunt about the country. 
Before him smoke was rising, probably from a vil- 
lage. But that sign of human habitation, that 
certain indication that people were near, somehow 
only made him feel lonelier than he had been in 
the starlit darkness of the night. This would 
be good enough fun, if only one of his many friends 
back home were along — Jack French, or Steve 


32 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


Vedder. It was with them that he had shared 
such adventures in the past. And yet not just 
such adventures, either. This was more real than 
anything his adventures as a Boy Scout had 
brought him, though he belonged to a patrol that 
got in a lot of outdoor work, and that camped out 
every summer in a practical way. 

Being alone took some of the zest out of what 
had seemed, once Lieutenant Ernst’s loan had 
saved him from his most pressing worry, likely to 
be a bully adventure. Now it seemed rather flat 
and stale. But that was partly because having 
tramped all night, he was really beginning to be 
tired. So he went on to the village, and there he 
found a little inn, where he got a good breakfast 
and a bed, in which, as soon as he had eaten his 
meal, he was sound asleep. 

Few men were about the village when he went 
in. He had noticed, however, the curious little 
throng, early as it was, about a bulletin ominously 
headed, ‘‘Eriegzustand!” That meant mobiliza- 
tion and war. The men had answered the call 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


33 


already, all except those who were too old to 
spring to arms at once. Some of the older ones, 
he knew, would be called out, too, for garrison 
duty, so that younger men might go to the front. 

In his sleep he had many dreams, but the most 
insistent one was made up of the tramp of heavy 
feet and the blowing of bugles and the rattling of 
horses^ feet. And this wasn’t a dream at all, for 
when he awoke it was to find a soldier shaking him 
roughly by the shoulders, and ordering him to get 
up. And outside were all the sounds of his dream. 
The sun was high for he had been asleep for several 
hours. So he got up willingly enough, and hur- 
ried his dressing because he remembered what 
Ernst had told him. Then he followed the soldier 
downstairs, and found himself the prisoner in an 
impromptu sort of court-martial. 

Really, it wasn’t as bad as that. Considering 
that he had no passports and nothing, in fact, to 
show who he was, and that no responsible person 
could vouch for him, he was very lucky. It was 
because he was a boy, and obviously an American 


34 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


boy, that he got off so easily. For after he had 
answered a few questions, a major explained the 
situation to him very punctiliously. 

*^You must be detained here for two or three 
days,’^ said the major. ^‘This is an important 
concentration district, and many things will hap- 
pen that no foreigner can be allowed to see. We 
believe absolutely that you are not unfriendly, 
and that you have no intention of reporting any- 
thing you might chance to learn to an enemy. But 
in time of war Ave may not take any risks, and j^ou 
will, therefore, be required to remain in this village 
under observation. 

‘^Within the village limits you will be as free as 
if you were at home, in your own country. You 
will not be allowed to pass them, however, and if 
you try to do so a sentry will shoot you. As soon 
as certain movements are completed, you will be 
at liberty to pass on, on your way to Koenigsberg. 
I will add to Lieutenant Ernst's advice. When 
you reach Koenigsberg, after you have reported 
yourself to the police, Avait there until a train can 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


35 


take you to Berlin. It will mean only a few days 
of waiting, for at Koenigsberg there are already 
many refugees, and the authorities want to get 
them to Berlin as soon as the movements of troop 
trains allow the railway to be reopened for pas- 
senger traffic.’’ 

Fred agreed to all this. There was nothing else 
for him to do, for one thing, and, for another, he 
was by no means unwilling to see whatever there 
might be to be seen here. He could guess by this 
time that without any design he had stumbled on 
a spot that was reckoned rather important by the 
Germans, for the time being at least, and he had 
heard enough about the wonderful efficiency of the 
German army to be anxious to see that mighty 
machine in the act of getting ready to move. 

He did see a good deal, as a matter of fact, that 
day and the next. It was on the famous Saturday 
night of the first of August that he had left Virbal- 
len. Sunday brought news of a clash with France, 
far away on the western border, and of the German 
invasion of Belgium. Monday brought word of 


36 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


a definite declaration of war between Germany 
and France, and of the growing danger that Eng- 
land, too, might be involved. 

And all of Sunday and all of Monday supplies of 
all sorts poured through the little village in an 
unceasing stream. Motor cars and trucks were to 
be seen in abundance, and Fred caught his first 
glimpse, which was not to be his last, of the won- 
derful German field kitchens, in the mighty ovens 
of which huge loaves of bread were being baked 
even while the whole clumsy looking apparatus 
was on the move. But it only looked clumsy. 
Like everything else about the German army, 
this was a practical and efficient, well tried device. 

Then suddenly, early on Tuesday, he was told 
that he was free to go, or would be by nightfall. 
Amd that day all signs of the German army, save 
a small force of Uhlans, vanished from the village. 
That evening, refreshed and ready for the road 
again, Fred set out. And that same evening, 
though he did not know it until the next day, 
England entered the. war against Germany. 


CHAPTER in 


A STRANGE MEETING 

As he walked west Fred noticed, even in the 
night, a change in the country. It was not that 
he passed once in a while a solitary soldier guard- 
ing a culvert, as he neared a railway, or a patrol, 
with its twinkling fire, watching this spot or that 
that needed special guarding. That was part of 
war, the part of war that he had been able to 
foresee. It wasn’t anything due to the war that 
made an impression on his mind so much as a sort 
of thickening of the country. Though he had 
traveled so short a distance from the Russian 
border, there seemed to be more people about. 

Great houses, rising on high ground, with small, 
contented looking villages nestling, as it were, 
under their protection, were frequent. He was, 
as a matter of fact, in a country of great aristo- 
cratic landholders, the great nobles of Prussia, 
the men who are the real rulers of the country, 

37 


38 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


under the Prussian King, who is also the German 
Kaiser. And in many of these great houses lights 
were burning, even after midnight, when all signs 
of life in the villages had ceased. The country 
was stirring, and there was more of it to stir. 
Now from time to time he heard the throbbing hum 
of an automobile motor. Only one or two of these 
passed him, going in either direction, on the road 
along which he was traveling. But there were 
parallel roads, and he could hear the throbbing 
motors on these, and often see the pointing shafts 
of light from their lights, searching out the road 
before them as they sped along. 

Fred knew enough of Germany to understand 
something of what he saw and heard. It was from 
these great houses that a great many officers were 
contributed to the army. These young men had no 
real career before them from their birth, almost, 
except in the army. So it was easy to guess why 
the lights were burning in those mansions, and why 
there was anxiety among them, and why the throb- 
bing motor cars were humming over the roads. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


39 


If Germany were beaten back in the beginning, 
if the task she had undertaken proved too heavy, 
this was the province that was sure to feel the first 
brunt of invasion. Behind him, to the east, Fred 
knew were the great masses of Russia, moving 
slowly, but with a terrible, always increasing force. 
No wonder these people were stirring, were send- 
ing out all their men to drive back the huge power 
that lay so near them, a constant menace! 

But now, though he did not know it, Fred was 
approaching real danger for the first time. Many 
of the motors he saw and heard were going west. 
Though he could not guess it, they were carrying 
women and children away from the old houses 
that were too much exposed, too directly in the 
path of a possible invasion for the helpless ones 
to be left in them when the men had gone to fight. 
All Germany had to be defended. It happened 
to be the part of East Prussia to bear invasion, if 
it came to that. 

And so the people of the great houses were 
making their migration. The men went to their 


40 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


regiments; the women to Berlin, and to the great 
fortresses that lay nearer than Berlin — Koenigs- 
berg, Danzig, Thom. This was historic country 
that Fred was traversing, the same country 
that had trembled beneath the thundering march 
of Napoleon’s grand army more than a hundred 
years before, when the great Emperor had 
launched the mad adventure against Russia 
that had sealed his fate. 

But he didn’t think of these things, except of 
Napoleon, as he trudged along. Once more he 
traveled through the night. Once more, as the 
first signs of morning came, he began to feel tired, 
and, despite the food he had carried with him 
which he had stopped to eat about midnight, he 
was hungry. And, as had been the case on the 
night of his tramp from Virballen, the first rays 
of the rising sun showed him a village. It was in 
a hollow, and above it the ground rose sharply to 
a large house, evidently very old, built of a grey 
stone that had been weathered by the winds and 
rains of centuries. It was a very old house, and 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


41 


strangely out of tune, it seemed to Fred, with the 
country though not with the times. It was so old 
that it showed some traces of fortification, and 
Fred knew how long it was since private houses 
had been built with any view to defence. It was 
a survivor of the days when this whole region had 
been an outpost of civilization against hordes of 
barbarian invaders. 

One curious thing he noticed at once about the 
great house. No flag was flying from it, though it 
boasted a sort of turret from which a flag might 
well have been flung out to the wind. All the other 
big houses he had seen had had flags out and the 
absence of a standard here seemed significant, 
somehow. 

When he entered the village he found that there 
was no inn. He saw the usual notice of mobili- 
zation and the proclamation of war, but the people 
were not stirring yet. He had to wait for some 
time before he found a house where people were 
up. They looked at him curiously, but grudgingly 
consented to give him breakfast. There was an 


42 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


old man, and another who was younger, but crip- 
pled. And this cripple was the one who seemed 
most puzzled by Fred’s appearance in the place. 
He surveyed him closely and twice Fred caught 
him whispering, evidently about him. 

Then the cripple slipped away and came back, 
just as Fred was finishing his meal, with a pom- 
pous looking, superannuated policeman, recalled 
to duty since the younger men had all gone to war. 
This man asked many questions which Fred an- 
swered. 

‘‘You are American F’ asked the policeman, 
finally. “You are sure you are not English?” 

All at once the truth came over Fred. They 
thought he was English! Then England must 
have entered the war! They would think that he 
was an enemy, perhaps a spy! Yet, though he 
knew now the cause of the suspicious looks, the 
mutterings, he couldn’t utter a word in his de- 
fence. He hadn’t been formally accused of any-* 
thing. 

“Yes, I’m an American,” he said, quietly. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


43 


not English. I’ve no English blood in me.” 

He had intended to try to get a place to sleep 
in the village, but now he decided that it would be 
better to get away as soon as he could. If there 
had been soldiers about, or any really responsible 
police officials, he would not have been at all dis- 
turbed. But these people were nervous and ignor- 
ant; the best men of the place had gone, the ones 
most likely to have a good understanding. So he 
paid his little reckoning, and started to walk on. 

They followed him as he started. As soon as 
he was in the open road again, a new idea came to 
him. Why not try the great house on the hill? 
There certainly someone would know the differ- 
ence between an American and an Englishman. 
He was very tired. He knew that, even if he went 
on, he would have to stop at some village sooner 
or later. And if he was suspected here, he would 
be at the next place. 

And so, trying to ignore the little crowd that was 
following him, he turned off and began climbing 
toward the mansion above the village. 


44 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


It was like a signal. From behind him there 
rose a dull murmur. A lad not much older than 
himself raced up and stood threateningly in his 
path. 

‘^If you are an American and honest, why are 
you going there?’’ asked this boy, a peasant, and 
rather stupid in his appearance. 

‘‘None of your business!” said Fred, aroused. 
He didn’t think that the advice of his friend 
Lieutenant Ernst to answer questions covered 
this. 

“You can’t go there. There are spies enough 
there already!” cried the other. 

And then without any warning, he lunged for- 
ward and tried to grapple with Fred. 

That aroused all the primitive fight in Fred. 
He met the attack joyously for wrestling was 
something he understood very well. And in a 
moment he had pinned the peasant boy, strong as 
he was, to the earth. 

But he had got rid of one opponent only to have 
a dozen others spring up. There was a throng 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


45 


about him as he shook himself free, a throng 
that closed in, shouting, cursing. For a moment 
things looked serious. Fred now understood these 
people thought he was a spy. And he could guess 
that it would go hard with him if he didn’t get 
away. He forgot everything hut that, and he 
fought hard and well to make good his escape. 
But they were too many for him. Try as he would, 
he couldn’t get clear, although he put up a fight 
that must have been a tremendous surprise to his 
assailants. In the end, though, they got him 
down, with cries of triumph. 

And then there came a sudden diversion from 
outside the mob. Down the road from the great 
house, shrieking a warning, came a flying motor 
car. Its siren sounded quick, angry blasts, and 
the mob, terrified, broke and scattered to get out 
of the way of the car. Fred, stupefied, didn’t run. 
He had to jump quickly to one side to get out of 
the car’s path. Then he saw that it was slowing 
down, and that it was driven by a boy of his own 
age. This boy leaned toward him. 


46 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


going to turn and go back. Jump aboard 
as I come by — I won^t be going very fasti he 
cried. 

Fred didn ^t stop to argue or to wonder why this 
stranger had come to his aid in such a sensational 
and timely fashion. Instead, he gathered himself 
together and, as the car swung about and passed 
him, leaped in. As he grasped the seat, the driver 
shot the car forward and it went roaring up the 
hill, pursued by a chorus of angry cries from the 
crowd, utterly balked of its prey. 

^‘That was a close call for you!^^ said the 
driver, in German. 

But something in his tone made Fred look at him 
sharply. And then part of the mystery was 
solved. For the driver was not a German at all, 
but plainly and unmistakably a Russian. 

Yes— but how — why — 

‘‘Wait! Don’t talk now!” said the driver. 
“Wait till we’re inside. We’ll be all right there, 
and I’ve got a few questions I’d like to ask, too.” 

There was no more danger from the mob of viF 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


47 


lagers, however. The speed of the car, even on 
the steep grade, was too great to give pursuers on 
foot a chance, and so its driver was able, in a 
few moments, to drive it through great open gates 
into a huge courtyard. 

‘^Now who are you?’’ he asked. **And why 
were those people attacking you?” 

”They thought I was English,” said Fred. 
suppose England must have declared war on Ger- 
many, too.” 

”She has. Aren’t you English, then?” 

” No, I ’m American. My name ’s Fred W aring. 
You’re a Russian, aren’t you?” 

”Yes. My name’s Boris Suvaroff. This is a 
summer place my father owns here. He’s away. 
I’m glad of that, because the Germans would have 
taken him prisoner if he’d been here.” 

For just a moment neither seemed to catch the 
other’s name. Then the Russian boy spoke. 

‘ ‘ Fred W aring — an American ? ” he said. ‘ ‘ I — 
is it possible? I’ve got a cousin called Waring in 
America I My father’s first cousin married an 


48 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


American of that name years and years ago.’^ 
‘‘She was a Suvaroff — my mother/’ said Fred, 
but he spoke stiffly. “Her family here disowned 
her—” 

‘ ‘ Some of them — only some of them, ’ ’ said Boris. 
“Are you really my cousin? My father wrote to 
your mother long ago — but he got no answer! He 
has often told me of her. He was very fond of her! 
Are you really my cousin ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I guess I am ! ’ ’ said Fred. “I’m glad to know 
that some of you will own me! My uncle Mikail 
had me arrested when I went to see him in Peters- 
burg!” 

And then while they learned about one another, 
the two of them forgot the war and the danger in 
which they stood. 


CHAPTER IV 


COUSINS 

‘‘So you have seen Mikail Suvaroff!’’ said Boris. 
He shook his head. “We have seen little of him 
in the last few years. He and my father do not 
agree. Mikail is on the side of the men about the 
Czar who want no changes, who want to see the 
people crushed and kept down. My father wants 
a new- Russia, with all the people happier and 
stronger. ’ ^ 

‘ ‘ Then I should think they wouldn T agree, ^ ’ said 
Fred, heartily. “Mikail is like the Russians one 
reads about, dark and mysterious, and always 
sending people to Siberia and that sort of thing. ’ ^ 

“It isn’t as bad as that, of course,” said Boris, 
with a laugh. “Russia isn’t like other countries, 
but we’re not such barbarians as some people try 
to make out. Still, of course, there are a lot of 
things that ought to be changed. Russi^has been 
apart from the rest of the world because she’s so 

49 


50 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


big and independent. That^s why there are two 
parties, the conservatives and the liberals. My 
father is all for the Czar, but he wants the Czar to 
govern through the men the people elect to the 
Duma. After this war — well, we shall see I There 
will be many changes, I think. You see, this time 
it is all Russia that fights. Against J apan we were 
not united. It is the Russian people who have 
made this war.^^ 

‘‘I only knew there was danger of war the night 
it began, said Fred. ^‘I suppose it is on account 
of Servia, though 

“Yes. That started it. They are Slavs, like 
ourselves. It is as it was when we fought Turkey 
nearly forty years ago. The Turks were murder- 
ing Slavs in the Balkans, and all our people called 
on the Czar to fight. This time we could not let 
Austria bully a nation that is almost like a little 
brother to Russia. ’ ^ 

“I can understand that,^’ said Fred. “I sup- 
pose there ^s enough of the Slav in me, from my 
mother, to make me feel like that, too.^^ 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


51 


^‘Even after the way Mikail treated you I Tell 
me about that. Why did he behave so, though I 
suppose you may not know ? ^ ^ 

don’t, really. My father is dead, you know. 
I and my mother are alone. She has always loved 
Russia, though she calls herself an American, and 
is one, and has always made me understand that 
I am an American, before all. But she has taught 
me to love Russia, too. And she has always told 
me that there were estates in Russia that belonged 
to her, and would belong to me. She and my 
father were angry and hurt because of the way her 
family treated them, but she said that some time 
she wanted me to take possession of the estate, and 
to live for a little time each year in Russia. She 
said that the peasants on the place would be better 
off if I did that. ” 

‘^Yes,” Boris nodded. ‘‘That is what those 
who criticise us do not always remember. Russian 
nobles do look after their peasants. The peasants 
in Russia have not had the advantages of the poor 
in other countries. They are like children stilL 


52 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


My father is a father to all the people on our 
estate. When they are sick, he sees that they are 
cared for. If there are bad crops, he gives them 
food and money. We must all do such things. 

‘^That’s what she told me. Well, she wrote 
letters and she could get no answers. So she de- 
cided to come herself. But she was taken ill. Not 
seriously, but ill enough so that the doctor did not 
want her to travel. And that was why I came. I 
went to my uncle, because he was in charge of her 
affairs. And then, though he was kind enough 
when I first saw him, and promised to help me, I 
was arrested. All my papers were taken away, 
and all my money. And he brought me to Virbal- 
len, after I had been kept in a sort of prison for 
three or four weeks. There I was taken off the 
train for Berlin and put across the border, without 
any money or passports. The German lieutenant 
himself was going to send me to Berlin, but then 
the news came that war had been declared, and he 
advised me to walk. I was held up at the first vil- 
lage I came to, and I got as far as this. You 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


53 


saw what happened here in this little village/^ 
‘‘That is very, very strange,^’ s-.d Boris, vastly 
puzzled. “Do you know what charge was made 
against you ? ’ ’ 

“No! Some tommyrot about a conspiracy 
against the Czar. But just what it was I was never 
told. I am forbidden to re-enter Russia. “ 

‘ ‘ I don ’t understand at all, ^ ^ said Boris. ‘ ‘ Mik- 
ail canT want to keep your mother’s property for 
himself. He is a very rich man — by far the rich- 
est of the family, though none of the Suvaroffs are 
poor. And I know about your mother’s lands, 
because they are next to our own.” 

“The money that comes from them has always 
been sent to her,” said Fred. “That was what I 
was thinking of, too. There was no trouble, you 
see, until it seemed that we might want to live on 
the place from time to time. ’ ’ 

“Yes. My father has had something to do with 
the arrangements. Your mother is well olf, even 
without her own property, isn’t she?” 

“Yes. My father was not a millionaire, but he 


54 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


always had plenty, ’ ^ answered Fred, very frankly. 

‘ ‘ Mikail did hate the idea of her marriage, ^ ’ said 

Boris, reflectively. ‘‘I could understand this 

% 

better if I thought that he was trying to keep her 
inheritance from her to show his dislike. But 
it cannot be that. There is something very mys- 
terious. I wish my father were here! I think 
perhaps he would understand. ^ * 

“Where is he, Boris?” 

“With the army by this time! He did not be- 
lieve there would be war, to the very last. That 
is the only reason I am still here. But he himself 
was called back as soon as things began to look 
serious. I stayed here with my tutor but he is 
gone now. He is a German, and has been called 
out. It is fortunate that my father had gone, be- 
cause the Germans would have held him, of course, 
if he had been here. They have come here three 
or four times to look for him, but now I think they 
have decided that we have told the truth, and that 
he is not here. ^ * 

“How did you happen to come to my aid in such 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


55 


a fashion? I was beginning to think that I was 
in serious danger down there. 

^‘You were, Fred! They thought you were an 
English spy. And they hate the English worse 
than they do us, I think. They have thought that 
the English should be on their side. When they 
found it could not be so, they thought that at least 
England would be afraid to fight. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I see that. But you — what brought you Aut ? ’ * 
know those people. And when I saw that 
they were attacking someone, it seemed to me that 
I couldn’t just stand by and look on. It was sure 
to be someone on my own side that they were 
treating so — the cowards! But a mob is always 
cowardly. And, of course, I knew that I could 
manage easily with the automobile. They were 
sure to scatter when they saw it coming, because 
they are afraid of motors, anyway. ’ ’ 

‘^Well, you can belittle it as much as you like, 
but you certainly saved me from an awfully nasty 
situation. And you didn’t know who I was, 
either!” 


56 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


’*‘No, I didn% of course. But it makes me feel 
all tke better to find out it was you, Fred. Still 
you know we^re not out of the woods yet.’^ 
^^We^re all right here, aren^t we?^^ 

* ‘ I don ^t know. I think the Russians will be in 
East Prussia, and well in, before very long. If 
that happens and the German army is pushed 
back of this line, these people will be entirely out 
of control, except if Russian troops happen to come 
to this particular spot — and there’s no especial 
reason why they should.” 

“You mean they might attack the house?” 

‘ ‘ They might do anything, especially if the war 
seems to be going against them. They’re good 
enough people, as a rule, but in times like these 
there’s no telling what will happen.” 

“I hadn’t thought of that. But — ^yes, you’re 
right, of course. What do you think we’d better 
do, Boris?” 

“There’s nothing to be done at once. We’ve 
got to wait a little while, and let the situation de- 
velop. K we tried to get away now, it would be 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


57 


very risky indeed, I think. You see, between us 
and the Russian border there are a lot of German 
troops. And, even if you went back now toward 
Koenigsberg and Berlin, I’m afraid you’d have a 
hard time. You see, you haven’t any passport. 
And you’re partly Russian. Then you’ve been 
here, and they’d know that. I’m afraid you’d 
stand a good chance of being locked up. Tell me 
just what happened at Virballen. ’ ’ 

Fred told him all that he could remember, and 
Boris frowned. 

Ernst will make a report, you see,” he said. 
^‘I’m afraid they’ll be looking for you. It makes 
it look as if you were in a bad hole. ’ ’ 

^‘How do you mean? There’s nothing in what 
happened there to interest Germany, is there?” 

‘^If things had been normal that night, you’d 
have found out what there was, I can tell you! 
You see the Russian and the German secret police 
work together very well. It’s all right when 
they’re looking for nihilists and violent revolu- 
tionaries — the sort of people who would think it 


58 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


a great thing to assassinate either the Kaiser or 
the Czar. But the trouble is that if a big man in 
either Germany or Russia has a grudge against 
someone, he can use that whole secret police ma- 
chinery against him. That ’s what Mikail Suvaroff 
was doing to you.’’ 

^^But the Germans!” 

‘^He would have seen to it, I suppose, that the 
secret police on our side told the Germans here 
some cock and bull story — enough to induce them 
to make it unpleasant for you. That was ar- 
ranged in advance probably. Right there on the 
border, with war starting, those fellows lost their 
importance. The soldiers, like Ernst, were in full 
command. But they’ll be as busy and as active as 
ever a little way behind the fighting line, looking 
for spies. They’ll remember what the Russians 
had to say about you, and they’ll decide that 
you’re a suspicious character, and lock you up in 
some fortress till the war’s over!” 

“Gee! That’s a nice prospect! Say, Boris, 
what am I to do? If I go to Berlin, I’ll be ar- 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


59 


rested ! If I go back to Russia, my uncle will prob- 
ably have me boiled in oil or something! If I stay 
here, your peasant friends down below will lynch 
me! I’m beginning to think I’m not popular 
around here!” 

Boris laughed, but his eyes were grave. 

‘‘It’s a ridiculous situation,” he said. “I don’t 
really know what to say. I don ’t believe you need 
to fear Mikail very much. He has a good deal to 
think of by this time, because, now that the war 
has come, he won’t have time for intrigue. He’s 
a first-class soldier. He made a splendid record in 
the war with Japan — and not many of our gener- 
als did, you know. But I tell you what I think 
we’d better do. Wait here until we hear from my 
father. He will know. And when he learns that 
you are here, he will be able to protect you in some 
fashion. ’ ’ 

‘‘But how are you going to hear from him 
here?” 

‘‘That’s a secret — yet! But there’s a way, 
never fear. A way that the Germans don’t sus- 


60 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


pect, and won’t be able to interfere with. Tell 
me, Fred. If it is safe for you to go back into 
Russia, will you stand by me? Or would you 
rather take your chance of going home through 
Germany! I’m a Boy Scout, and we have known 
for a long time some of the work we would have 
to do if war came. ’ ’ 

^‘I’m with Russia, even if America stays out,” 
said Fred, with instant decision. ‘ ‘ Blood ’a thicker 
than water — you know the old saying. And I am 
half a Russian. If there ’s any way that I can help, 
you can count me in. I’m a Boy Scout, too, when 
it comes to that. I didn’t know there were any in 
Russia, though. ’ ’ 

‘‘There are. They’re all over Europe now, 
you know. Well, we’ll see. What’s this?” 

A servant had entered. 

“There is a man who would see you, Boris Pe- 
trovitch,” he said, using the familiar address of 
Russian servants. 


CHAPTEE V 


THE GERMANS 

Boris jumped up. 

‘ ^ That is good ! ^ ’ he said. ‘ * I have been hoping 
he would come. ’ ^ 

^‘You do not know who it is,’^ said the servant. 

Boris Petrovitch, do not see this man. He is a 
German. He looks to me like one of their spies. 

‘‘I will look at him first/ ^ said Boris, with a 
smile. *^But, Vladimir, I think your eyes are get- 
ting feeble. It is time you were sent to the place 
in the Crimea to rest, like the old horses that can 
no longer do their share of the work.’’ 

Vladimir bridled indignantly. But then a slow 
smile came over his face. 

*Hs it Ivan?” he asked. 

‘Ht should be,” said Boris. ^*1 shall know as 
soon as I see him. ’ ’ 

The newcomer was waiting in the great hall. 

Boris, with Fred at his heels, got a glimpse of him ; 

61 


62 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


then without ceremony he ran down the polished 
staircase. 

‘‘So you have come at last!^’ he cried. 

Ivan was a loutish German in appearance, and 
only his eyes betrayed the fact that he was not as 
stupid as he looked. At the sight of Boris he 
smiled, and the act changed his whole expression. 
But Fred thought he had never dreamed of so 
splendid a disguise. This man, he guessed, must 
have come many miles through Germany, in a 
country where the closest possible watch was being 
kept for spies, and for all, indeed, who might even 
be suspected of espionage. And it was easy to see 
how he had been able to do it. Fred knew that 
he must be a Russian. Yet in every detail of his 
appearance he was German. His clothes, his 
bearing, his every little mannerism, were carefully 
studied. Fred guessed that this was no servant, 
but a secret agent of much skill and experience. 
He was to learn the truth of his surmise before 
many days had passed. 

“Ivan Feodorovitch!“ said Boris. “So you 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


63 


really got through! Have you brought the — 

He stopped at a forbidding look in the man^s 
eye. For a moment he seemed to be puzzled. 
Then he understood that it was the presence of 
Fred, a stranger, that was bothering Ivan. 

^ ^ Oil I ^ ’ he cried, with a laugh. * ‘ Ivan, you may 
speak before this stranger as freely as before me. 
Let him be a stranger to you no longer. He is my 
cousin from America — the son of Marie Feodor- 
ovna, who went away to be married before I was 
bomP’ 

Fred was not prepared for what followed. There 
was an outcry, first of all, from the half dozen ser- 
vants in the great hall. They crowded forward 
curiously to look at him. And as for Ivan, he 
stared blankly for a moment, and then plumped 
down on one knee and, to Fred ^s unspeakable em- 
barrassment, seized his hand and kissed it. 

^‘He and all of them are old, old retainers of our 
house,’’ Boris explained swiftly. ‘^To them one 
of our blood ranks second only to the Czar him- 
self. My father saw to it always that here we were 


64 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


surrounded only by such faithful ones. These 
people and their ancestors before them have been 
in the service of us and of our ancestors for many, 
many generations — since before the freeing of the 
serfs, of course.’’ 

It was Boris who brought Ivan back to the 
errand that had caused his sudden appearance: 

‘‘Have you brought the parts for the wireless’” 
he asked. “It was as my father foresaw. The 
first thing the Germans did was to come here and 
render the installation useless, as they supposed.” 

“It need not remain useless,” said Ivan. 
“Everything needful I have brought. ’The 
station may be working by to-night. Except that 
there can not be anything worth sending for a few 
hours, it might be set up now. Better not to use 
it and risk betraying our secret until there is real 
need of it.” 

Boris turned to Fred to explain. 

“We have spies all through East Prussia, and 
through Galicia and Silesia, too, of course,” he 
said. “They can find out a good many things of 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


67 

interest and importance to our army. But it is 
one thing to obtain such knowledge and quite an- 
other to find some means of sending it back to our 
people. We hope, if we are not sent away from 
here too soon, that we can make this house very 
useful that way. It stands high, you see, and we 
have a very powerful wireless. The Germans 
knew this and they thought they had made it 
useless.” 

”Oh, that’s great!” said Fred. ‘‘Perhaps I 
can help, too, because I can send by wireless. I 
don’t know whether I would be much good with 
the Continental code, because I’ve learned only 
with Morse. But I might be of some use.” 

‘ ‘ Another operator will be of the greatest use, ’ ’ 
said Boris. “I know a little, a very little, about 
it. And there is a man here. But I am afraid 
that they will come very soon and take every man 
who is of fighting age away. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ But your men aren ’t soldiers ! ’ ’ 

“Most of them have served their term in the 
army. But, even if they had not, the Germans 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


64 

would take every able-bodied man. That is all 
right. We are probably keeping back all Germans 
who might go home and go into the army, and all 
the other countries will do the same with men of a 
nation with which they are at war.’^ 

‘^Vladimir has all that I brought,’^ said Ivan, 
breaking in now. for me, I must go again. 

‘ ' Go ? N 0 w f Aren ’i you going to stay ? ’ ^ 

“ No ! I have much to do. I may be back. But 
if I return, I shall come through the cellar — you 
understand! There are strange movements of 
troops in this region that I cannot understand at 
all. There are far fewer soldiers here than I 
thought there would be. I have not been able to 
find traces of more than a single corps of Ger- 
mans — and we had expected them to have three or 
four, at the very least, concentrated in East Prussia 
as soon as the war broke out. At Augustowo they 
were even expecting an attack. ’ ’ 

^^Then if there are so few as that, won’t we ad- 
vance ! ’ ’ 

‘ ' Ah, that I don ’t know ! The Austrians, I hear. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


67 


are very busy. They say they are moving already 
in great strength across the border, but that is far 
away from here, and it is not our concern. It is 
for us to keep the Germans so busy here that they 
will not be able to crush France before England 
can get her army into action. At the beginning 
it does not matter so much whether we win vic- 
tories or not, so long as we can force the Germans 
to send many corps here instead of using them to 
invade France. But I have talked enough. Now — 
good-bye, and may God be with you here ! ^ ’ 

^ ‘ Good-bye, ’ ^ said Boris, and Fred repeated 
Ivan’s wish in Russian. Ivan seemed astonished. 

‘ ' So your mother taught you her mother 
tongue!” he said. ‘‘Ah, but that is splendid!” 

Then he was off. 

‘ ‘ Ivan might have been a great actor, I believe, ’ ’ 
said Boris. “See, isn’t he the German to the 
life as he goes, there? No wonder he can deceive 
them so!” 

“It’s pretty dangerous work for him, though, 
I should think,” said Fred. “They wouldn’t 


68 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


waste much time on him if they caught him, would 
they?’’ 

^‘Only the time they needed for a drumhead 
court-martial. After that, if he was lucky, he 
would be shot instead of being hung. But he is 
ready, you see. It is his part. Oh, we Russians 
are all united now, if we never were before I Ger- 
many has threatened us for years. She has set 
Austria against us. This time we had to fight, and 
you will see that all Russia will be behind the Czar. 
We learned our lessons against the Japanese. 
That was not a popular war. It was not made by 
the people, but by a few who forced the Czar’s 
hand. Now we shall make the world see that 
though Russia may be beaten, she has the power 
to rise from defeat.” 

“What will happen here if they do take the men 
away?” 

“They won’t take them all. Only the younger 
ones. There will be enough left to look after the 
place and after us. Though if they come, I shall 
have to hide you, my cousin! I am just thinking 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


69 


of that. I shouldn ’t wonder if those stupid people 
would have sent word to someone. We had better 
be prepared. Come with me — I will show you 
something. ’ ’ 

Fred followed Boris, and in a few minutes found 
himself in a great room that was obviously the din- 
ing-room of the house. In this room there were 
many pictures, and the walls were panelled in oak, 
blackened by smoke and age. Boris looked about 
to make sure that they were not observed, then 
he touched a spot in one of the panels, and it slid 
open. Beyond this, however, was revealed an 
unbroken wall. Again Boris touched a certain 
spot, and now this wall, seemingly solid and un- 
broken, gave way, just as the oaken panel had 
done. 

‘^Even if they discovered the panel, you see, 
they would not have the secret,” said Boris. ‘‘I 
will show you the exact spots you must touch. 
Then if they come, you can reach this place by 
yourself. Once in here, you will be safe. Carry 
an electric torch always with you. I will give 


70 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


yon one later. You will find two sets of arrows 
marked every few feet through the passages to 
which this leads. The upper ones point to the 
outside door that is at the end of a passage far 
beyond the house. The lower ones, if you follow 
their course, will bring you back to these panels. 
So you cannot lose your way.’^ 

‘^By George, that certainly sounds mysterious! 
Have you always planned for something like 
this?’^ 

‘‘Oh, these passages are very old. This house, 
you see, was built at a time when intrigue was more 
common than now. But when my father began 
to see, as he did years ago, that Germany was sure 
to force war upon us, and that it would probably 
come in his lifetime, he made many changes. 
This is not really a private house at all — it is a 
little outpost of Russia, here in the midst of an 
enemy’s country. And it is not the only one. 
In Silesia and in Galicia we have places like it. ’ ’ 

“Perhaps the Germans will find that Russia is 


not so slow after all!” 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


T1 


Outside now there rose a peculiar sound, but one 
that Fred identified at once. 

*‘That sounds like your Germans coming now, 
Boris, he said, quietly. ^‘IVe heard crowds 
making just that same noise at home — on election 
night, for instance, when they were coming to 
make the winner give them a speech. ’ ^ 

Boris listened for a moment, then he went to a 
window. 

‘‘Yes,’’ he said. “But it’s not the sort of Ger- 
mans we need to worry about. It ’s only the people 
from the village. Old men, and women, and chil- 
dren — ^boys, of course. I’m surprised that they 
should come for they know they can’t get in.” 

But even as he spoke, there came a thunderous 
sound of knocking at the outer door and the sharp 
grounding of arms — a noise as ominous as it was 
unmistakable. 

“There are soldiers, too. They are here much 
sooner than I thought they could come!” ex- 
claimed Boris. ‘ ‘ Here, into that passage with you! 
Listen! Follow the arrows! They will lead you 


72 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


down. Stop at a double arrow. You will be able 
to hear. The wall is very thin there, on purpose. 
You can hear what is going on in the great hall 
and still be perfectly safe. I’ll come for you as 
soon as I can get rid of them. ’ ’ 

‘‘All right. But will you be safe yourself t 
Oughtn’t you to come with me, Boris?” 

“Oh, they won’t do anything to me! I’m only 
a boy, you see. They’ll never think that I could 
be dangerous. In with you, now! We can’t keep 
the soldiers out. I don’t want to give them an 
excuse for burning the place down, and they’d do 
it in a minute if there was any resistance. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER VI 


THE TUNNEL 

Fred found the secret passage much less con- 
fusing than he had thought it likely to be. As 
soon as he had stepped in, the panels slid back into 
place, and the passage was immediately dark. 
But Boris had had time to find an electric torch for 
him, and had told him where to find another — or 
two or three, for that matter — when that was ex- 
hausted. 

‘‘We’ve always kept them there in case of emer- 
gencies,” he had explained. 

So Fred had felt assured of a supply of light, 
which was the one absolutely necessary thing if, 
as was entirely possible, the German soldiers 
stayed in the house for any time. One other thing, 
of course, was necessary; food and drink. And 
that, too, he knew where to find. Boris had told 
him of a store of compressed foods, and of fresh 
water, piped into this amazing passageway from 

73 


74 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


the outer entrance, far beyond the limits of the 
gardens and grounds of the house. 

The first thing Fred did was to switch on the 
light of his torch and inspect the warren in which 
he had found sanctuary. It was not at all the 
musty, bad smelling place he had expected it to be. 
The walls had been plastered and stained a dull 
grey, which did not reflect the light from his torch 
appreciably. The arrows appeared, as Boris had 
said they did, at frequent intervals. 

‘ ‘ Not much of a secret. ’ ^ That was Fred ’s first 
thought. ^‘But it neednT be. The men who 
worked in here are the ones the family can trust 
absolutely, I suppose. 

It gave Fred a certain thrill to feel himself in 
touch with such things, to know that he belonged 
to such a family as the Suvarofis, capable of in- 
spiring such devotion in its retainers — which, 
though Boris regarded it as a matter of course, 
seemed a great thing to Fred, with his American 
upbringing. 

‘ ‘ What a piece of luck ! ’ ^ he reflected. ‘ ‘ Imag- 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


75 


ine my stumbling on such a splendid fellow as 
Boris! If it hadn^t been for all this trouble, I 
might never have known I had a cousin! And 
he’s the sort of cousin I call worth having! He 
amounts to something — and I don’t believe he’s 
as old as I am. Well, I’ve got to show him that 
an American scout can keep up his end! I’ll try 
to play the game with him.” 

It made up for all the trouble he had had since 
he had first seen his uncle. He was more puzzled 
than ever, after what Boris had told him, to ac- 
count for the behavior of Mikail Suvaroff. 

^H’ll bet there’s some explanation,” he said to 
himself. certainly hope so! Seeing Boris 

makes me inclined to like these Russian relatives 
a whole lot, and I’d like to think that Uncle Mikail 
could square himself somehow. He’s got a whole 
lot to make up for, of course. ’ ’ 

Though he did feel that very strongly, he was 
able now to frame a thought that had come to him 
more than once after he had become certain that 
it was Prince Suvaroff who had caused his arrest 


76 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


And that was that Suvaroff had seemed far too 
big and important a man to do a small, petty 
thing. 

‘^He^s got a wrong idea of me, some way,’’ Fred 
decided. ‘‘He has heard something, or made up 
his mind to something that isn’t so. Well, I 
hope I get back to Russia and stay out of jail long 
enough to find out what was wrong. Perhaps 
this war will make a difference, especially if I’m 
lucky enough to be able do something for ‘Holy 
Russia’.” 

Fred moved along quietly while he was think- 
ing of the extraordinary sequence of events that 
had brought him to where he now was, flashing 
his light on the arrows, and looking for the double 
mark that would show him he had reached the 
spot of which Boris had told him. But when he 
got there he had no need of any sign, for he could 
hear voices distinctly on the other side of a very 
thin wall. Boris was speaking. 

“I’m so sorry, Herr Hauptmann,” Boris was 
saying, in faultless German. “I did see some of 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


77 


the peasants chivying a fellow down below. 
And I did go out, of course, in my car, to see if I 
could help him. I got him away from them. 
But he didn’t come all the way back. He wanted 
to go on, and it’s not just the time I should choose 
for entertaining guests. So I didn’t urge him to 
stay.” 

“I’m sorry to seem to doubt your word. In 
fact, Prince, I don ’t, ’ ’ said a rumbling voice, that 
of the German captain Boris had been addressing, 
as Fred could guess. “But was this person you 
rescued so — chivalrously — an Englishman?” 

“I really don’t know, Herr Hauptmann. He 
might have been. Or an American. One or the 
other, I should think.” 

‘ ^ Clever Boris I ’ ’ thought Fred. ‘ ‘ He ’ll tell him 
some truth and some fiction! He has got to de- 
ceive him, of course — that’s war.” 

“I have reason. Prince, to think that he was an 
English spy,” the captain went on. “You will 
allow my men to make a search ? And, by the way, 
I shall be sorry to take away your servants, but my 


78 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


orders are to arrest and send to detention camps 
every man of military age I find here. ’ ^ 

‘‘I understand, captain. I am entirely in your 
hands, of course. I should like to know if it will 
be possible for me to return soon to Russia U' 
‘‘You must go to higher officers than myself, 

Prince,’’ said the captain. “If it rested with 

« 

me — ! But, of course, it does not. If you see 
your father soon, however, will you give him my 
compliments? And tell him from me that I 
should esteem it an honor if we should meet in the 
field?” 

“Gladly, captain. It is a pity that such good 
friends and neighbors as we have all been must be 
enemies, is it not ? But it was not our doing. ’ ’ 
Fred frowned a little. 

“That sounds rather bad,” he said to himself. 
“If this captain has lived near here, he must know 
a good deal about the place. And, by George, if 
they make a search they will find the wireless 
machinery that Ivan brought in with him ! It may 
be a mighty bad thing for this house and for Rus- 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


79 


sia that Boris saw me and brought me in, though 
it was certainly lucky for me!’’ 

But even then Fred did not guess the extent of 
the trouble he had really caused. He listened in- 
tently, but for a time there was silence beyond the 
wall. Then he heard a murmur of voices, and 
guessed that a report of the search for him was 
being made. And then the captain ’s voice boomed 
out. 

‘‘Prince,” he said, “I must ask you to come 
with me and to consider yourself under arrest. It 
is very painful but those are ^y orders. Colonel 
Goldapp wishes to see you. I think it is only a 
form.” 

“What? You will take me away?” Fred 
caught the dismay in his cousin’s tone, and winced 
slightly. But then he understood that it was not 
fear for himself that moved Boris, but anxiety lest 
the important plans of which he was such an essen- 
tial part should be spoiled. “But my father — he 
thinks that I am safe here until he can make ar- 
rangements for me to return to Russia. ’ ’ 


80 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


“lam sorry. ^ ^ The German tone, gruff though 
it was, was by no means unkindly. “Orders, 
however — ^I have no choice. Doubtless you will 
be allowed to return as soon as the colonel has seen 
you.” 

“Well, there is no use in arguing, of course,” 
said Boris. He raised his voice, and Fred under- 
stood that what followed was meant especially for 
his ears. “Where will you take me, Herr Haupt- 
mann?” 

“Colonel Goldf.pp^s quarters are at present in 
the parsonage near the village. You will be ex- 
amined there. Prince. We shall be there to-night, 
at least, perhaps longer. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I see. I will be ready in a few moments. Will 
you excuse me if I write some instructions for 
Vladimir, who will be in charge after I go? You 
may, of course, read what I write.” 

“Assuredly.” 

Then there was silence. The room outside was 
so quiet that Fred had a chance to realize how per- 
fectly the place in which he was hidden served its 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


81 


purpose. He could hear the heavy breathing of 
someone near the wall. Then a chair scraped 
along the floor, and in a moment he heard the 
scratching of a pen. And then there came a new 
sound, a tapping, as with two fingers. That was 
Boris, and quite suddenly Fred understood. Boris 
was tapping out a message to him in telegraphic 
code. 

‘^You must take charge here,^’ Boris tapped 
with his fingers. ‘ * I will tell Vladimir to get you 
as soon as it is safe. The parsonage where I will 
be taken is very near the outlet of the secret pas- 
sage. If Ivan returns, tell him I am there, and 
that I will sing or whistle the song of the Volga 
boatmen from time to time, so that he may know 
the window of my room, if there is no guard in the 
room with me. Do not answer, for they might 
hear.’^ 

*^Good boy! He certainly has nerve said 
Fred to himself, admiringly. ^^He doesn’t know 
what’s going to happen to him next, but he is cer- 
tainly doing all he can to make things come right.” 


82 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


Then there was a new confusion of noise outside. 
Fred heard Boris call Vladimir and speak to the 
old servant in Russian. Then the German officer 
gave Vladimir his instructions. 

‘ ‘ This place will be left alone for the present, ’ ^ 
he said. ‘‘Prince Alexander Suvaroffi has been a 
good friend and neighbor, and, though he is an 
enemy, we desire to respect his property as long as 
possible. But neither you nor any who are left 
in the house with you must go out — this for your 
own safety — except to get food and then go 
yourself. ^ ’ . 

Fred heard a general movement then, and 
guessed that they were going out. Silence fol- 
lowed, and, after listening for a time, he decided 
upon an exploration of the secret passage. A j 
vague plan was taking form in his mind already. 
It seemed to him that, as he was at liberty, he 
should do anything that was in his power to free i 
Boris. Until he knew more of the lay of the 
land, he could not even make a real plan, but it 
was possible, he thought, that something that was ’ 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


83 


in his mind might easily prove to be feasible. 

It was easy, with his torch and the guiding 
arrows, to follow the devious, winding course of 
the passage. He surmised that its ascents and 
descents, which seemed arbitrary and unreason- 
able as he pursued them, were due to other en- 
trances than the one he knew. It would be neces- 
sary, as he could understand, to have more than 
one means of getting in and out of such a passage. 
And when he found himself at last going in a 
straight path which sloped easily downward, he 
guessed that he was beyond the house, and that he 
had come to a part of the passage that led to the 
outer world. 

Here there was a trace of dampness, but nothing 
like what might have been expected in what was 
really a tunnel. Fred had to admire the excel- 
lence of the construction work. The descent, as 
he knew from what he had seen outside, must 
really be very sharp. But it was managed here 
with turns and zigzags so that the grade was 
never very sharp. 


84 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


Fred became suddenly conscious of a change in 
the air. 

‘‘I must be near the opening/^ he thought. 

A couple of minutes proved that he was right. 
He now remembered that Boris had not had 
time to tell him how the door or gate was oper- 
ated. But he decided not to go back at once, but 
to try to discover the secret for himself. It had 
occurred to him that it was more than probable 
that a sentry or two might be left in the house, 
and he had no mind to stay in the passageway, 
helpless and useless, if Vladimir found it impos- 
sible to let him out at once. 

At the end of the passage he found a solid, seam- 
less door. He decided at once it must work on an 
axis of some sort and that it must be set in motion 
by pressing a spring. And so, steadily and sys- 
tematically, he searched the whole door, until he 
struck the right spot at last. As the door moved, 
he marked the spot with a tiny pencil mark. It 
swung open — and he looked into the eyes of a 
startled German soldier, his mouth wide open! 


CHAPTER Vn 


A DARING RUSE 

It would be hard to say which was more sur- 
prised — ^Fred or the soldier. For just a moment 
they stood, both of them, perfectly still, staring 
at one another with fallen jaws. And then Fred 
acted by pure instinct, and without the semblance 
of a plan in his mind. He had played football in 
school and on the team of his scout troop in Amer- 
ica. And now he dived for the astonished Ger- 
man's legs and brought him down with a flying 
tackle. The heavy gun flew out of the soldier’s 
hands, and, fortunately for Fred, he fell so that his 
head struck the ground heavily. He was stunned 
and, for the moment at least, safe and out of com- 
mission. 

There was time, therefore, for Fred to see how 
the ground lay. He found that he was in a slight 
hollow, sandy in the bottom, where he stood and 
the soldier lay. He imagined that at certain 

85 


86 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


times this hollow might be filled with water, for 
the sand had that appearance, and, moreover, 
there was a gully, evidently washed out by water, 
leading down into the pit. 

‘‘Wonder how long he’s good for?” speculated 
Fred, looking at the soldier. “A few minutes, 
anyhow. He got quite a bump!” 

He satisfied himself in a moment that the sol- 
dier was not badly hurt. He was a ridiculous 
figure as he lay there sprawled out. His breathing 
was heavy; it sounded almost like heavy snoring. 
He was very young, scarcely more than a boy 
himself. His uniform was entirely new, as was 
his equipment. He was very slight too, and his 
face was typical of a certain sort of German. He 
looked, Fred thought, like a bird. It was a queer 
idea, and he laughed as it came to him, but it did 
describe this German absolutely. 

“I’ll risk it,” Fred decided. He hesitated 
about the door. Perhaps he ought to close it. 
But if he did, he couldn’t open it again from 
this side for that was a secret he hadn’t learned. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


87 


And, after all, the only danger was that the 
soldier might come to his senses and go in — and 
if he did that, Fred could follow him. So tak- 
ing the rifle, he crawled along the gully the rain 
had washed out, moving very cautiously. As 
he neared the top, he lifted his head and saw, 
not more than fifty yards away, a grey stone 
house, simple and unassuming. A flag pole had 
been put up in front of this house, and a German 
flag drooped from it. Soldiers were all about the 
place, and two automobiles stood before the door. 
Motorcycles were lying on the ground. While 
Fred watched, two men rode up on the snorting, 
crackling little machines and hurried into the 
house. 

This was undoubtedly the parsonage, now being 
used as the headquarters of Colonel Goldapp. 
Fred’s heart sank as he surveyed the place. It 
seemed to him that there wasn’t much chance 
that he could rescue Boris. There were too many 
Germans about. Even though there was no rea- 
son for the staff to anticipate an attack, he could 


88 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


guess that the place would be well guarded. And 
yet he was here because he hoped that he would 
be able, after seeing the parsonage, to devise some 
plan of getting Boris away. 

However, that was something to be attempted 
later, if at all. 'His chief concern now was for the 
soldier he had thrown. And now he made his way 
back, and found to his dismay that the man was 
beginning to recover his senses. As Fred came 
back he stretched, yawned, and sat up, with the 
most ludicrous mixture of fright and wonder in 
his eyes. Fred had his gun, and at the sight of 
that the soldier spoke indignantly. 

‘ ^ Give me back my gun ! ’ ’ he said, testily. ‘ ‘ It 
is against the rules for anyone to touch my gun. 
If you let the corporal catch you with that, there ’ll 
be trouble. I promise you ! ’ ’ 

Fred had hard work to control his features. He 
wondered if the man was really a little simple- 
minded, or if the effects of his fall still confused 
him. He finally decided that both theories were 
right. For a moment he hesitated, wondering 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


89 


what to do. He wanted to get back into the pas- 
sageway, and he did not want the German to see 
him doing it. As he thought, he studied the en- 
trance attentively. And he was startled sud- 
denly to find that he could not see it! Had some- 
thing happened ? Had the door closed automatic- 
ally! If that were so, he was in a nice fix, and 
he would soon join Boris as a prisoner. 

But then he realized that the seeming disappear^ 
ance of the opening was simply the result of clever 
screening, by means of bushes. It had deceived 
him for the moment. He saw that the door was so 
contrived that anyone emerging from it would 
seem to anyone even a few feet away, to be simply 
coming out from behind a bush. And then he got 
his great idea, an idea that made him turn his 
head, so that the soldier would not see the grin he 
could not suppress. 

‘‘Here, give me that gunU’ said the soldier, 
again. He was more impatient than before, and 
his tone was one of anger. He struggled to his 
feet, too, and stood, swaying uncertainly, still 


90 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


weak and very dizzy as the result of his fall. 

‘ ‘ Beware ! ^ ^ 

The word came in a sepulchral, heavy voice 
from directly behind the soldier. He swung 
around, greatly puzzled. 

‘^Who^s there he called, sharply. 

‘‘I am everywhere!’’ said the same voice. 

But now it came from the very ground at his 
feet. 

And then the voice spoke, swinging around, as 
the soldier turned, like a dancing dervish, trying 
always to face the voice, only to have it come from 
some new quarter. 

‘^Attend carefully to what I say!” said the mys- 
terious voice. ‘ ‘ You have risked death by coming 
to this spot! But I am merciful, and I wish to 
preserve all soldiers who fight for their fatherland ! 
I am the spirit of this place! I command you to 
go! Go up the gully. Stand with your back 
turned to this place and count one hundred. Then, 
and only then, you may return. Your gun will be 
here, and you may then go in peace. This ground 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


91 


is sacred to me. On your life, when you have re- 
gained your gun, go! Do not look back! Do not 
hesitate! And, above all, tell no one what you 
have seen! I have spoken!’’ 

The soldier was trembling now in every limb. 
He looked hard at Fred, as if he suspected that he 
might have something to do with this mysterious, 
awesome voice. But Fred ’s lips had never moved. 
Fred, at home, had often amused the guests of his 
family and the gatherings of the scout patrol to 
which he belonged with this trick of ventrilo- 
quism. But the German evidently had never 
heard of such a thing. And suddenly he broke 
into a run. He made for the gully and ran along 
it with stumbling feet. 

^^Now stop!” boomed the voice — directly in 
front of him! ‘‘Not a step further! Begin to 
count aloud. But do not shout!” 

“Ein, zwei, drei, vier — ” began the German, 
obediently. 

And Fred, half choking with suppressed laugh- 
ter, slipped behind the screened entrance of the 


92 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


secret passageway, while the soldier back was 
still turned. He did not quite close the door, but 
waited to make sure that the German’s curiosity 
did not get the better of his fright, which had cer- 
tainly been real enough. But it was all right. 
The man counted right up to a hundred, and once 
or twice, to Fred’s huge amusement, when he 
stammered, and lost track of his numbers, he went 
back and counted several of them over again! 
But he finished at last, and Fred heard him come 
stumbling down the gully. He seemed to hesitate 
then. 

‘^May I really go now?” he asked. ‘‘I did not 
know there was a spirit here, or I would not have 
come. ’ ’ 

”Yes. Go, and quickly!” said Fred, throwing 
his voice out so it came from far above the soldier. 

He heard the soldier running then, and in a 
moment closed the door behind him, and began re- 
tracing his steps along the secret tunnel. 

‘‘Gee! That was a close call!” he said to him- 
self. ‘‘Serves me good and right, too, for doing 


IN EUSSIAN TRENCHES 


93 


more than I was told ! I might have spoiled every- 
thing by not waiting until I knew more about the 
place. If that soldier hadn’t been ready to see a 
ghost in anything he didn’t have some reason to 
expect to meet, I ’d be in a lot of trouble now. And 
yet I’ll bet he’s brave enough, too. If he had an 
enemy he could see and touch, he ’d fight all right. ’ ’ 
But Fred had more to think about now than what 
had happened, or what might have happened, 
either. He was more interested in what was to 
come next. He went along, flashing his torch. 
There was no sound at the thin wall, where he 
stopped, when he reached it, to listen for the sound 
of voices in the great hall. That encouraged 
him. He decided that if any soldiers had been 
left on guard in the place, they would have been 
in there. And when he came near to the panel by 
which he had entered, when he let his torch wink 
out he saw that there was a light ahead of him. 

For a moment he caught his breath, wondering 
if some enemy had discovered the secret, and was 
waiting to pounce on him. But he went on, be- 


94 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


cause he decided that if anyone were waiting they 
must know already that he was in the tunnel. 
And in a moment he came face to face with old 
Vladimir. 

“The coast is clear, excellency/’ said the old 
Russian. “All the Germans have gone — a curse 
upon them! My master has told me to treat you 
as if you stood in his place until he returns. I 
have the things that Ivan brought. Is it your 
pleasure that I should deliver them to you?” 

Fred was puzzled for a moment. Then he re- 
membered the wireless. 

“Oh, yes, by all means!” he said. “And show 
me the room where the wireless is. You know all 
about that, Vladimir?” 

“I know where it is. I do not understand such 
devil’s work, but I am an old man, and stupid.” 

Fred laughed. 

“Perhaps it’s devil’s work, but if we have any 
luck it will be pretty useful to us,” he said. 

* ‘ Come on, if it’s safe for me to come out. There ’a 


a lot for me to do.” 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


9S 

Vladimir led the way to the top of the house. 
On the roof, like a pent-house, there was a little 
room or cupola, and in this was a partially dis- 
mantled wireless installation. Fred was left there 
alone while Vladimir went off to get the things 
that Ivan had given to him for safekeeping, and 
he studied the installation closely. It was differ- 
ent from any that he had ever seen, but its lead- 
ing principle, of course, was familiar to him. At 
first it surprised him to find that it was supplied 
with power by weak batteries, which the Germans 
had ruined. 

‘^You couldn^t send more than twenty miles 
with those batteries!^’ he said to himself. 

But when Vladimir returned that was ex- 
plained. For he removed a picture that hung on 
the wall and disclosed a number of wires. 

‘‘I do not understand,^’ he said. ^‘But my 
master and Ivan have told me that those wires 
that you see run down to a place far below the cel- 
lar, where there is a great engine that moves when 
petrol is put into it — ” 


96 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


*^0h, I see, a dynamo run by a Diesel engine, 
probably!^’ said Fred, suddenly enlightened. 
‘^That^s a fine idea! They can develop power 
without steam! Costs a lot — but it^s worth it, of 
course ! I ^11 just try that out ! ^ ^ 

Quickly he connected up the wires, tried out his 
key, after replacing the parts that had been taken 
away, and in a moment got a powerful spark. 

^‘That^s great! he said, to himself, ignoring 
old Vladimir, who watched him in fascinated won- 
der. ‘‘I can send a long distance with that 
spark ! ^ ^ 

Then he pounced on something he had over- 
looked before, — a little book bound in black 
leather. As he opened it, he gave an exclamation 
of joy. It was a code book, as he saw at once, and 
on the inside of the cover was a list of wireless 
stations, with their calls. There was one at Vir- 
ballen, he saw, and a dozen other places just over 
the border, and running quite a distance into 
Russian territory, including one at Augustowo, 
were named. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


97 


‘‘Ivan told me to guard that book as if it were 
my life/^ said Vladimir. “He said to put it in a 
safe place, and to destroy it if the Germans found 
it, even if they killed me for doing it. ’ ’ 

“He was right,’’ said Fred, soberly. “If the 
Germans got that book, it would be as valuable to 
them as a whole army, Vladimir.” 

“ It is very strange, ’ ’ said the old man. “I do 
not understand, but I am old and stupid, and it is 
not for me to question my betters.” 

Fred sat down and studied the code for a few 
moments. More than ever he was glad now that 
his mother had always insisted that he must be 
able to read and speak her Russian tongue. He 
would have to send in Morse, instead of in the 
somewhat simpler Continental code, but that, he 
thought, would make little difference. Some 
operator would be certain to understand his 
sending. 

And now he sat down and began calling 
Suwalki. He would have liked to call Virballen, 
which was nearer, but he was not sure that the 


98 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


Russians were still in possession of their station 
there, since he remembered that the Germans had 
had the superior force there on the Saturday night 
when the war broke out — a night that seemed to 
lie a century in the past now ! 

For a long minute he hammered out his call. 
And then through the air, over miles of hostile 
country, .came a welcome whisper in his ear — the 
whisper of the answering call from Suwalki! He 
was in touch with Russia! 


CHAPTER Vm 


WITHIN THE ENEMY^S LINES 

For many reasons Fred did not want to hold a 
long talk with the Snwalki operator. German 
wireless stations were undoubtedly at work in the 
surrounding country, and, though there was no 
great danger that his messages might be inter- 
cepted and read, it was not advisable, of course, 
to let the Germans, who were sure to be watchful, 
know that there was a private Russian station 
somewhere within German limits. The instru- 
ments here were tuned to a certain wave length, 
and he guessed that this was standard for all 
Russian military stations, and different from that 
of the Germans. But when he held his circuit 
to listen he got whisperings that sounded almost 
like static electricity. It was evident that a good 
many stations were sending, and that the air all 
about was full of the waves. 

So he contented himself with a brief and direct 

09 


100 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


report of what had happened, explaining why 
Boris was not himself present to make this report. 
He asked for information as to the movements of 
the Russian army, but got no satisfaction. 

‘‘We don^t know ourselves, said the Suwalki 
operator. “Things are moving very fast, but ab- 
solutely no news is being given out. I know that 
our cavalry — Cossacks, chiefly — have crossed the 
border at half a dozen different points. The Ger- 
mans and the Austrians have invaded Poland, and 
our troops have all been withdrawn from that 
region. The concentration there is going on at 
Brest-Litovsky, and behind the line of Warsaw- 
Novo Georgevsk. But here there are a good many 
troops. There may be Cossacks within a few 
miles of you. They are raiding. Here it is said 
that our first move wdll be to try to cut the Ger- 
man railways.’^ 

That was all he could find out. He arranged 
for word of Boris's seizure to be sent to his father, 
and then closed his circuit and went below, in 
search of old Vladimir. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


101 


By now it was afternoon, and Fred began to 
think that if Boris had been coming back that day 
he would have arrived already. Plainly, it seemed 
to him, Colonel Goldapp must have decided to 
retain him as a prisoner. He wanted to get down 
near the parsonage again, but he was afraid to 
venture out by the secret passage. He didn’t 
know how thoroughly he had frightened the sol- 
dier who had so nearly caught him. If the man 
had recovered his wits and decided that it was no 
ghost, but a very substantial and real person who 
had bowled him over, there would doubtless be a 
guard in the hollow, by the outer entrance of the 
tunnel. And, in any case, it was too risky to seek 
egress by that means again in broad daylight. 

^‘Vladimir,” he said, when he found the old 
servant, want you to make me look like a 

German, if you can. Disguise me, so that I may 
go down toward the village safely. Is it pos- 
sible?” 

Vladimir studied him for a moment. 

''I think so ” he said. ''There are plenty of 


102 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


clothes here, and there is a man who has often 
helped when there were to be private theatricals.’’ 

The transformation was soon completed, and 
when he looked at himself in a glass Fred had to 
laugh. His clothes were those of a Prussian 
peasant, and a few very slight changes in his ap- 
pearance had been made by the man to whom 
Vladimir had spoken. They worked wonders, 
and Fred decided that he could go anywhere in 
Prussia now with impunity. 

“ Is it safe for you to leave the house ? ” he asked 
Vladimir. 

‘^Yes, for they think that I am harmless,” said 
the old man. 

wish to know how to open the door of the 
tunnel from the outside,” said Fred. ‘^But I 
think it would be unsafe to go there directly. It 
will be better for you to start out and get there 
as if you had gone by chance. It is near the par- 
sonage where my cousin is, and if anyone ques- 
tions you, you could say, I should think, that you 
wanted to be near your master. ’ ’ 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


1Q3 


*‘Yes,’^ said Vladimir. ^^That would be safe.” 

“Then do you go there and stay, unless they 
drive you away. I will go there, too, if I can, and 
if the coast is clear and no one is watching, you 
can show me. Unless, indeed, you can tell me 
now?” 

‘*It will he better for me to show you,” said 
Vladimir. ‘‘The looks of the outside change 
constantly. A storm will destroy a bush, or some 
other landmark there, and, though I could touch 
the proper spot in the darkness myself, I would 
find it hard to describe it to you. I will start at 
once?” 

“Yes. And I will come to you, if it is safe, as 
soon as I can. I should not be more than ten 
minutes behind you in reaching the hollow.” 

Nothing about the whole adventure upon which 
he had embarked so strangely, and with so little 
intention on his own part, impressed Fred more 
than the unquestioning obedience old Vladimir 
yielded to him. More than ever before, he real- 
ized that the Suvarofis must indeed be as great 


104 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


a family as his mother had declared. Though 
she had become a true American, Mrs. Waring 
had never ceased to love the land of her birth, 
and she had always tried to impress Fred with 
her own feeling for the great house to which she I 
had belonged. 

‘^Such families as the SuvarofPs can do much 
harm to themselves and to others,’’ she had said. -’! 
^^But they can also be of great service to those of 
their blood, to those who are dependent upon them, 
and to their country.” 

The truth of this was constantly being im- 
pressed anew upon Fred at this time. He was 
struck especially by the difference between the 
way that the people of this house treated Boris 
and himself, and the attitude that had been notice- 
able in those who had served his uncle, Mikail 
Suvaroff. Mikail was decidedly a greater figure > 
than Boris’s father. Yet it was not devotion that ; 
he seemed to inspire. He won obedience, not be- i 
cause his people were devoted to him, but because ^ 
he had filled them with fear, and because they | 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


105 


knew the consequences that would certainly follow 
if he were displeased in any way. 

It was still light when Fred left the house. He 
went out by a side entrance, reaching the road 
from the garden. Vladimir had gone down the 
hill before him. It was understood that he would 
manufacture some errand as an excuse for his ap- 
pearance in the village. A number of the people 
of the village were in the road near the great 
house; they stared at it curiously, and with hos- 
tile murmurs. They paid no attention to Fred^ 
however, and this convinced him that his disguise 
was good. He passed near them, and he breathed 
more freely when he had gone by. 

At the foot of the hill he turned away from the 
village. Here he remembered something that 
both amused and annoyed him. He had not asked 
just where the parsonage was. He knew its loca- 
tion with reference to the outer portal of the tun- 
nel, to be sure, but he had come to that under- 
ground. However, he remembered where the sun 
had been when he had emerged into the open air 


100 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


before, and, after some profitless scouting about, 
a passing motorcycle set him on the right track. 
It set him thinking, too. 

‘‘There are an awful lot of these fellows with 
dispatches running about, V’ he said to himself. 
“It seems to me that this place is more than a 
colonePs headquarters. A colonel has just one 
regiment under him, and he certainly wouldn^t 
need so many riders to carry his orders about — 
unless he were in command of a detached fort or 
position, and Colonel Goldapp isnT. I guess 
he^s there, right enough, but I’ve an idea there’s 
someone more important, as well. It might be 
worth while to find out just what is going on 
around here.” 

But that could wait. For the moment his task 
was to meet Vladimir and then to spy out the par- 
sonage. Meeting Vladimir proved easier than he 
had hoped. He followed the trail of the man on 
the motorcycle until he was within sight of the 
grey stone parsonage, and then had his bearings 
exactly. He approached the hollow cautiously. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


107 


but no one was around. The ground was fairly 
soft; there had been rain within the last three or 
four days. And so, as he approached the spot of 
his encounter with the superstitious soldier, Fred 
was able to tell that no visitation had been made 
to the hollow. He marked the footsteps of the 
soldier; the man had evidently run from the place. 

Looking around cautiously, he saw that every- 
thing was clear, and dropped down on hands and 
knees as he reached the gully. Vladimir was 
waiting, and in less than a minute explained the 
secret of the door. 

‘‘All right,” said Fred. “Now you get back 
to the house, and either be near the entrance to the 
passage yourself, or keep someone stationed there. 
I don’t know what’s going to happen, so I can’t 
tell you, but I think that maybe I shall get Boris 
away from the parsonage. ’ ’ 

Vladimir’s eyes gleamed. 

‘ ‘ I am an old man, ’ ’ he said, ‘ ‘ and I fear that I 
am useless. But if I can help to rescue him — ” 
‘ ‘ If you can help, I ’ll let you know, ’ ’ said Fred. 


108 


m RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


‘‘But I don^t know yet even Row I shall set about 
it. And I think it^s more important for someone 
we can trust absolutely to be in the house. There 
may be nothing for you to do there, and yet, if 
anything does come up, you will be needed there 
very quickly. Shall you go back through the 
tunnel ? ^ ’ 

“No. They may have watched me as I came 
out, and it will be better for them to see me return. 
No one suspects the tunnel yet, but some of these 
Germans are clever.’’ 

“Right!' Well, I know how to get into it now 
from this end, and that may help a lot. But I hope 
that when I use it again Boris will be with me. ’ ’ 

He let old Vladimir go out first. Then, after 
waiting for several minutes, he went up the gully 
in his turn, and set out boldly and with no attempt 
to hide his movements, for the parsonage. 

There was even more activity there now than 
there had been when he had first set eyes upon it. 
There were more automobiles; four of them 
altogether. At the wheel of each sat a soldier 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


109 


driver in grey uniform, and with a cloth covered 
helmet. Each car was of the same type, a long 
rakish grey body, low to the ground. As he 
neared the house an officer wearing a long, grey 
coat came out, accompanied by two or three 
younger men. He turned to speak to them, then 
got into one of the cars, which immediately drove 
off. As it went a peculiar call was sounded, more 
like a trumpet than an automobile horn. Fred 
guessed then what he afterward learned to be a 
fact; that the automobiles used by the German 
staff officers on active service had horns that indi- 
cated the rank of the officer using them. 

It seemed to Fred that there were more officers 
than soldiers about. There seemed to be only 
enough soldiers to provide a guard. Sentries 
were all about, but there were officers almost in 
swarms. He walked along, indifferently rather 
than boldly, and he was sharply challenged when 
he drew fairly near to the house. 

You canT go any further, youngster,^’ said the 
soldier. ‘‘The staff has taken this house. 


110 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


Fred stared at him rather stupidly, but turned 
away. Then he was called back suddenly, and 
for a moment his heart was in his mouth at the 
thought that his disguise had been penetrated 
and that he was about to be made a prisoner. 
Like Boris, he was concerned only with the effect 
of this upon his plans. He did not think of his 
own safety, although, had he been caught, he 
might have expected the fate of a spy, since he was 
in disguise within the German lines. It proved, 
however, that he was not to be arrested. A young 
captain was eyeing him sharply. 

‘‘Come with me, boy,’’ he said. “We are short 
of servants in the house here. You will do.” 

For a moment he was indignant, but then his 
heart leaped happily. If he was taken into the 
house as a servant, he could find out all and more 
than he had hoped, and that without risk. 


CHAPTER IX 


“THERE’S MANY A SLIP—” 

Once inside the house, Fred found a scene of 
orderly confusion. That is, it looked like confu- 
sion to him, but he could see that, for all the 
bustling and the hurrying that went on, everyone 
knew just what his part in the work was. Tele- 
phone bells were ringing all the time, and Fred 
noticed now that wires entered the house through 
the dining-room window. Evidently a field 
telephone system had been installed and connected 
this house with a whole region, of which, in a mili- 
tary way, it seemed to be the brain. Then Fred 
heard a voice that he recognized at once, and 
started at the sound, until he placed it as that of 
the captain who had taken Boris away, and re- 
membered that the captain had not seen him, even 
before he was disguised. 

Fred’s work, he soon found, was simplicity it- 
self. He was to do the bidding of any officer. He 
111 


112 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


was sent on errands, from one part of the house to 
another; often he carried written messages, handed 
to him by staff officers, to the room in which three 
telegraph operators were hard at work. Gener- 
ally speaking, he was there to do odd jobs and 
make himself generally useful. Luckily, he was 
taken for granted. Everyone seemed assured 
that he was one of the village boys, pressed into 
service because he happened to be the first one to 
come along. 

But for the first hour or so it was impossible for 
him to make any attempt to discover if Boris was 
still in the house. He was too busy, and he dared 
not spoil his opportunity to learn something really 
worth while by seeming to spy about. He was re- 
warded before long for his patience, for just as he 
was beginning to despair, an officer spied him in 
a moment when he was not actively engaged upon 
some errand. 

‘ ‘ Here, boy, ’ ’ called the officer, ‘ ‘ take this tray ! ’ ^ 

Fred took a tray from a soldier who was holding 
it awkwardly, • 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


113 


‘ ‘ Take it upstairs to the room on the third floor 
where a sentry is on guard. He will let you in. 
When the prisoner there has finished his meal, 
return with the tray to the kitchen. Do not let 
any knife or fork or spoon stay in the room when 
you go. So you will make yourself really useful 
and release a man who can do things for which 
you are too young. 

It seemed to Fred, as he started upstairs with 
his tray, that this luck was almost too good to he 
true. He scarcely dared to hope for what had 
seemed to him the inevitable explanation of his 
errand. But when the sentry opened the door of 
the locked room, and he looked in, he saw Boris 
sitting dejectedly on the side of a bed. It was all 
he could do to suppress a cry of delight, but he 
managed it, and he was hugely tickled as he saw 
Boris's indifferent glance at him. His disguise 
must be good, or Boris would have known him. He 
put the tray down, and then walked to the window. 
He looked down first, and then up. Then with a 
grin, he turned to his cousin. 


114 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


‘ ‘ Not a word, ’ ^ he said, quickly. ‘ ‘ Do you know 

Boris stared; then a smile broke out all over his 
face. There was no need for him to put his an- 
swer into words. Fred came very close. 

‘‘Speak low, but do not whisper/^ he sai(L 
“Tell me, what have they done to youf^^ 

“Nothing. Colonel Goldapp has been too busy 
to see me.’^ 

“I donT wonder! Boris, this is no coloneDs 
headquarters. It is more like that of an army 
corps. And there is at least one general here. 
His name is von Hindenburg. ^ ^ 

“Von Hindenburgf He is commander-in-chief 
in East Prussia! If he is here, there must be a 
German concentration in this region! They did 
not expect that! Oh, I must get out and get the 
news back — ** 

“Yes. The wireless is working. I talked this 
afternoon to Suwalki.^^ 

And in a few words he told Boris the essential 
facts of what had happened since the raid upon 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


115 


the great house on the hill on that morning. 

^‘How often do they come in here?^^ he asked. 

‘^Only when my meals are brought to me. 
There will be no one else now to-night, I think, 
unless Colonel Goldapp sends for me. They are 
very polite. I think I shall be alone most of the 
time. They have no idea that I will try to get 
away, because they think I know they have so 
many sentries and patrols about that it would be 
useless for me to try to do it.’’ 

Listen, then, Boris. I will go now. I think 
they will let me go now. I have been working 
hard for them about the house. But I will come 
back later. Stay near your window, so that I can 
see a handkerchief if you hold it. Then I will 
throw up a stone with a string tied about, and you 
can draw up a rope and slip down. If this gen- 
eral is so important we ought to let them know. 
I will send the word by wireless and then come 
back. ’ ’ 

‘‘Good! It is risky for you. They wouldn’t 
spare you if they caught you trying to help me ta 


116 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


get away. But if you can manage it at all, have 
clothes like the ones you wear ready for me, in a 
bundle. Vladimir will get them for you.’^ 

Fred nodded, and was off at once. He wag 
detained a little time when he went down with the 
tray, but he pleaded finally with a kindly looking 
officer, telling him that he was very tired, and had 
not expected to stay away from home so long, and 
was allowed to go. He went to the opening of the 
tunnel, found that the place was unguarded, and 
decided from the general appearance of the hollow 
that it was not visited by soldiers. Indeed, it was 
within the outer line of sentries, and, in a way, 
safer because of that. Had it been beyond that 
line, it would have been much harder to reach. 

The operator at Suwalki, when he called him by 
wireless, complained bitterly, saying that he had 
been trying for hours to get an answer. Boris’s 
father had been heard from and was extremely 
anxious to get into touch with his son. But it 
seemed the news that Fred sent made up for this. 
The man at Suwalki was incredulous. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


117 


‘‘Our information is that General vonHinden- 
burg is many miles from where you are, ’ ’ he flashed 
b<ick. ‘ ‘ Are you sure of your facts ? ^ ’ 

“Absolutely sure,’’ Fred answered. “Do you 
want the exact location of the house used as head- 
quarters? I can describe it for you if you have 
the village shown on your map.” 

“Yes. Give it to me,” came the answer. 

Before he finished hi^ wireless talk, Fred felt 
that the Russian operator did not fully trust him. 
Nor did he blame him. He knew the excellence 
of the German spy system; he had heard a good 
deal about it from Boris, and, for that matter, 
before he had even seen Boris at all. So he only 
laughed, though he hoped that this feeling would 
not prevent the Russians from using the infor- 
mation he had given. He could not see just how 
it was to be useful to them, however. Possibly 
the fact that von Hindenburg was here, and not to 
the south, was the important thing. 

By this time it was growing dark, and Fred de- 
cided that it would soon be safe to try to throw 


118 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


the cord up to Borises window — as safe, at least, 
as it would ever be. He got a bundle of clothes 
from Vladimir, and this time he determined to 
travel through the tunnel, since he knew that if he 
went by the outside route he would have trouble 
in getting through the sentries. Luck was with 
him again. He was nervous as he opened the door 
and came out into the night, but there was no one 
about. At a little distance he could hear steady 
footsteps; evidently a sentry was walking his beat 
near by. But Fredas scout training had taught 
him how to move quietly and he slipped through 
the gully and toward the house without raising 
an alarm. 

Once he was on the right side of the house, he 
found shelter in a clump of bushes, where, unseen 
himself, he could study the situation. His first 
thought was of the house. He soon found the 
window of Borises room. Immediately below 
it were the windows of corresponding rooms, and 
one of these was lighted. This made him pause 
at once. For the rope to be drawn up, or for 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


119 


Boris to show himself before that lighted window 
for even the moment of a swift descent, might well 
be fatal. That was one point, but he speedily 
devised a way of overcoming that. 

There was another danger to be considered, and 
it took him longer to calculate this. Naturally 
there was a patrol about the house. Fred himself 
had had to avoid the sentry, making his steady 
round. Now he lay in the bushes and timed the 
man ’s appearances for nearly half an hour. There 
were two men, as a matter of fact, and they met on 
each circling of the house. Fortunately, their 
meeting came at the very end of the garden. So 
Fred was able to work out a sort of mental chart 
of their movements, and to confirm it by timing 
them. The two sentries. met on his side of the 
house at the eastern end. The first walked west, 
the second north. The one who walked west had 
his back to Fred and to the window where Boris 
waited for a minute. Then he, too, turned north. 
Then came a blessed interval of just a minute, in 
which neither sentry was in sight. Altogether, 


120 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


there was a period of almost two minutes in which 
no eye would be fixed on Boris’s window, unless 
the sentry chanced to turn and look back. 

To make sure, Fred studied both men. And 
not once did either of them look back or up. 
Their attention did not seem to centre on the house 
at all. It was as if their instructions were more 
to prevent a surprise attack from outside, or the 
coming of some spy, than to watch those who were 
already in the house. 

Once he had made up his mind, Fred buried 
himself deeper in the shrubbery and risked using 
his pocket flashlight while he wrote a note to Boris, 
telling him what he had learned of the movements 
of the sentries. He told Boris, also, not to draw 
up the rope at once, but to climb from his window 
to the flat roof, something easy enough to manage, 
and then to move along five paces. There the rope, 
when it was drawn up, would be invisible against 
the grey stone of the house wall, whereas, against 
a lighted window, it would show up so plainly that 
the most stupid sentry would be sure to see it. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


121 


Fred had substituted a tennis ball for the stone 
he bad originally intended to throw. The ball 
had many advantages. In case bis aim was bad, 
the ball would not make a noise if it fell or if it 
struck against the wall, while the sound of a stone 
would have betrayed them bad be failed to put 
it through the window. Now he tied his note to 
the ball, making it firm and secure with the end 
of a ball of twine. About his body he had coiled 
a long, very thin, very strong rope. After Boris 
had the end of the cord he would fasten the rope 
to his end, and so enable Boris to draw it up. And 
to guard against losing the end of the cord, he 
tied it to his own left wrist. 

He waited for the sentries to meet; gave the one 
who stayed on his side a start, and then, taking 
careful aim, threw his ball. At home Fred had 
played baseball. More than once a game had 
depended on the accuracy of his toss of a hot 
grounder to the first baseman. In basketball 
games, he had stood, with the score tied, to shoot 
for the basket on a foul, when the outcome was to 


122 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


be settled by the accuracy of his throw. But never 
had he been as nervous as he was now. The ball 
flew straight and true, however. He saw it enter 
the window. And the next moment a tug on his 
wrist told him that Boris had it. 

He waited breathlessly. Then two short pulls 
signalled that Boris had read his note and would 
follow his instructions. He gave three sharp tugs, 
and then settled down to wait, with beating heart, 
for now the crucial test was coming. The other 
sentry was about to appear. If he noticed the 
thin string, by any chance, the whole scheme would 
be spoiled and Fred, in all probability, would be 
caught and treated as a spy. 

The man came around the comer of the house, 
walking slowly, his head down. As he neared the 
twine he stopped for just a moment and looked up. 
Fred scarcely dared to breathe. He knew what 
had happened. The twine had brushed against 
the sentry ^s cheek. But then a puff of wind car- 
ried it away, and the man went on, brushing at his 
cheek, thinking, perhaps, a moth had touched it. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


123 


One sharp tug of the twine. That was the sig- 
nal to Boris to go ahead. His eyes strained on the 
window, Fred saw his cousin figure appear on 
the sill, saw him climbing swiftly up a water pipe, 
and then saw him drop to the flat roof, hidden for 
the moment by a low parapet. Then there was 
another period of agonized waiting, for again a 
sentry was to pass. Fred used the brief interval 
of enforced inaction to loosen the rope and place 
it on the ground, tied to the loose end of the twine 
he took from his wrist, so that it would have a 
clear passage through the bushes. Then the coast 
was clear again, and he signalled to Boris to draw 
it up. Up, up went the twine; then the rope 
started. Amd at last it dangled against the ade of 
the house. Fred, knowing it was there, could 
scarcely see it himself. He decided that the 
sentries would never notice it. 

Then came the last pause. And when the sentry 
had passed the rope, Boris slipped over the para- 
pet and started his descent. He had to come 
quickly for he had less than two minutes to reach 


124 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


the ground and join Fred in his shelter. Down 
he came, hand over hand, so fast at the end, when 
he just slid, letting the rope slip through his fin- 
gers, that he must have burned the skin from his 
palms. But he made it, and came running toward 
Fred. He was crouched low against the ground. 
But, just before he reached the bushes there was 
a shout from above, a flash, a loud report. A 
bullet sang over Fred’s head, and the next moment 
the garden was alive with rushing, shouting men, 
ablaze with flashing points of electric light. They 
tried to hide in the shrubbery. But in vain. At 
this last moment, when Fred’s plan had seemed 
sure of success, disaster had come — for some 
German officer, going on the roof, had been just 
in time to see the rope and spoil everything with 
his chance shot! 


CHAPTER X 


SENTENCED 

Both Fred and Boris recognized at once the 
hopelessness of flight. Both thought instine- 
tively of the hollow and the concealed entrance 
to the tunnel, and both knew that to attempt to 
use that now would not save them, and would give 
away a secret that might be supremely important 
at some future time, either to them or to someone 
else among those who shared the precious secret. 
The grounds were flashing with light in all direc- 
tions; soldiers called to one another; men ran all 
around, looking for them. 

And yet, hopelessly caught as they were, neither 
could give up supinely. Both had the dauntless 
fighting spirit that must be conquered, that will 
never give up, not only while hope remains, but 
while disaster, be it ever so certain, has not ac- 
tually come to pass. They were in a sort of 
thicket, almost as thick as a primeval jungle. At 

125 


126 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


the same moment the thought seemed to come to 
each of them that the one chance for momentary 
safety lay in keeping perfectly still. They were 
side by side, wedged in a little opening they had 
made for themselves, and now they went down 
together. 

All about them the din of the pursuit continued. 
Officers were pouring out of the house to join the 
hunt. Shouts and cries resounded. Fred had to 
smile to himself. It seemed to him that the 
boasted system and order of the German army 
could not be what he had always heard about it 
if the escape of two boys could produce such a 
disorganization. 

And then there was a sudden diversion. The 
noise seemed to die away. It did not cease for 
there was still a good deal of talking, but there 
was no more shouting, until there was a sudden 
whirring sound. 

*‘An aeroplane I” whispered Boris. “IVe seen 
them for the last few days, flying in all directions. 
They use them for scouting.’’ 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


127 


“I knew I ought to recognize that sound! said 
Fred. 

It seemed fairly safe for them to speak to one 
another now. For some reason it was quite 
evident they had been forgotten. 

There was an interval of almost complete 
silence; then came a sudden explosion of orders. 
Half a dozen motorcycles sprang into crackling 
life; there was the unmistakable din of a power- 
ful aeroplane engine, which, with no muffler, is 
noisy enough to wake the dead. Then came the 
whirring of its propeller. They were sure that if 
they only dared to raise their heads, they would 
see the machine rising near by. 

But there was more to follow that was just as 
inexplicable. The motorcycles chugged away; 
then three automobiles started. Their engines 
roared for a moment before they subsided to the 
ordered, steady hum of a smooth running motor. 
On the first car that got away there was a horn 
that made Boris start convulsively as he heard 
its bugle note, and grasp Fredas shoulder. 


128 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


‘‘That horn belongs only to a car used by a 
full general!^’ he said. “It must he vonHinden- 
burg going, Fred! That flying machine brought 
important news!“ 

That had been evident to Fred almost from the 
first. He wondered mightily what was going to 
happen next. It seemed incredible that the Ger- 
mans, knowing that he and Boris must soon be 
found, and that only patience was necessary if 
they were to be caught, would so quickly give up 
looking for them. And yet — Boris was right, 
of course. A general would not depart with such 
abundant evidence of haste and sudden decision 
unless some grave news had come through the air. 

One question was soon settled. Scarcely had 
General von Hindenburg ^s car started, with the 
musical call of its horn clearing the way for it, 
when the search for the two scouts was renewed 
with as much vigor as had been shown before the 
coming of the aeroplane. And this time it was 
speedily successful. There was less din and con- 
fusion. Fred saw at once that some officer with a 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


129 


cool and level head had taken charge. The 
searchers now did the simple, obvious thing. 
They divided the grounds up into sections, and 
beat over each section thoroughly, with the result 
that a corporal and a private speedily came upon 
Boris and Fred, and, raising a sort of view halloo, 
dragged them out into the open, flashing their 
electric torches in their eyes. 

‘‘Here they are!’’ cried the corporal. “Herr 
Hauptmann, here they are!” 

A captain came up quickly, and at the sight of 
Fred exclaimed sharply in his surprise. 

“You’re the boy I chose to help with the work 
in the house here!” he said. His face darkened. 
“He is a spy! Take him into the guard room and 
lock him up.” He barely glanced at Boris. 
“Yes, that is the other. See that he is taken 
back to his quarters, corporal, and that a sentry 
remains constantly on guard.” 

“He is not a spy! If hei is one, then so am I!” 
Boris broke out in a sharp protest. “He must 
be treated exactly like myself, or I must be used 


130 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


as he is!’’ throwing caution to the four winds. 

‘‘I am giving the orders here,’^ said the Ger- 
man, coldly. ‘*We have no desire to treat you 
harshly, Prince. You and your father have won 
the liking and respect of all your neighbors here, 
and it is a matter of regret that we must detain 
you at all. But you must be able to see for your- 
self that there is a great difference between an 
open enemy like yourself and one who pushes his 
vray among us to get what information he can — 

*^I beg your pardon, captain,’’ Fred inter- 
rupted, thoroughly awake by this time to the 
danger in which he stood. ‘^It was by your 
orders, and against my own protest, that I came 
into the house here at all.” 

^‘You will have an opportunity to explain all 
such matters at your trial, ’ ’ said the captain. ‘ * I 
can assure you that all will be done in a regular 
fashion, and that you will have every opportunity 
to defend yourself. Colonel Goldapp will doubt- 
less arrange for a quick hearing since we shall not 
be here much longer. ’ ’ 

Fred was quite cool and collected. He was 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


131 


frightened, to be sure, and he was brave enough 
to admit that to himself. He had good reason to 
be frightened. There is no offence more serious 
than espionage in time of war, and by every rule 
of war he was a spy. He had pretended to be a 
German, which he was not, and had been found 
within the German lines. It was true, of course, 
that he had been ordered into headquarters, but 
that was a trifling point, and, though he had 
raised it, Fred knew very well that no technical* 
ity would save him if the truth about him came 
out. 

Boris understood all this, undoubtedly, quite 
as well as Fred or the German captain, but he was 
beside himself. He felt that Fred had run into 
this terrible danger because of him, in order to 
try to rescue him from an imprisonment that, 
though annoying, was by no means a serious 
matter. 

‘‘Take me instead of him!'’ he cried, forgetting 
that with every word he was really making Fred's 
case worse. “I — " 


132 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


‘‘I’ll be all right,” said Fred, with a cheerful- 
ness he certainly did not feel. “All I want is a 
fair trial. If I get that, I’ll be all right.” 

Unwillingly enough, Boris let himself be led 
away. Something in Fred ’s look, or in his voice, 
had warned him not to say anything more. So 
Fred saw him go, and was taken himself to the 
guard room, of ,w^hich he was the only occupant 
save for the impassive Pomeranian sentry. Fred 
guessed, somehow, that German soldiers in war 
time did not often do things that caused them to 
be put under arrest. In the little he had seen of 
them he had come to understand what it was that 
made a German army so formidable. 

He expected to be brought before the court early 
in the morning but, in fact, he was called out in 
less than an hour, and taken into the dining-room 
of the parsonage. Here, at the head of the table, 
sat an officer in a colonel’s uniform; Colonel 
Goldapp, unquestionably, presiding over the court, 
which included four officers beside himself. Fred 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


133 


knew enough of the military law to understand 
what was going on. He saw a young lieutenant 
sitting with some papers before him. Another 
came and drew him aside. 

“I am to defend you,^’ this officer said, pleas- 
antly. ‘‘That is, of course, I am to see that you 
get fair treatment. You are accused of being a 
spy. The charge, as I understand it, is that you 
are a Russian, but have disguised yourself as a 
German. If this is true, the best advice I can give 
you is to plead guilty and throw yourself on the 
mercy of the court. Your age will be taken into 
consideration. ’ ^ 

“I am not a Russian,’^ said Fred, quickly. “I 
am an American. I demand an opportunity to 
see the American ambassador, or at least the 
nearest American consul. ^ ^ 

“Is that alir* 

“That is all I can say. It is true that I am an 
American, and I believe it is my right, as a for- 
eigner, to ask to see the representative of my 
country, since America and Germany are not 


134 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


at war, but are friendly one to the other.” 

‘^That would be true if you were charged with 
an offence in a civil court. But in a court-martial 
there are no such rules. Once more, I believe 
your best course is to plead guilty. I do not know 
the evidence against you, but I can tell you that 
the court might be merciful if you admitted your 
guilt frankly, while it would probably treat you 
more harshly if you forced it to prove your guilt. ’ ’ 

Fred shook his head, however. And so the trial 
began. It was a real trial, and fair enough, but 
a trial by court-martial is not like one in a civil 
court, especially in time of war. There were no 
delays. The judge-advocate stated the case 
against Fred very briefly. He called as witness 
the officer who had brought Fred into headquar- 
ters, who said that the prisoner had been entirely 
willing to come. Then the corporal who had 
found him testified. And the third witness, when 
he was called, was none other than Lieutenant 
Ernst, who had befriended Fred at Virballen! At 
the sight of him Fred ^s heart sank. He began to 


m RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


135 


understand what a strong case there really was 
against him. 

At Ernst ^s first w^ords there was almost a sen- 
sation, for the lieutenant brought out the fact 
that Fred was related to the Suvarofi family. The 
fact that Fred had gone straight to the house of 
his kinsman came out as a result of ErnsFs evi- 
dence, and Fred knew that it would be useless to 
say that this had been the result of pure chance, 
and that he had not even known of Boris’s exist- 
ence. It was true, but it was none the less incred- 
ible. It was easy to see when Ernst had finished 
giving his testimony, which he did reluctantly, 
and with a good deal of sympathy for Fred, that 
the court had made up its mind. 

There were no witnesses for Fred to call. He 
told his own story, but it was not believed. The 
finding of the court was inevitable: ‘‘Guilty as 
charged!” And Colonel Goldapp, in an expres- 
sionless voice, pronounced sentence. 

“The prisoner is old enough, though he is only 
a boy, to know the fate of a spy. He risked this 


136 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


fate. He will be shot at once. Captain von Glahn 
will take charge of the execution of the court’s 
sentence. ’ ’ 

Fred passed through the minutes that followed 
as if he were in a dream. It seemed to him that 
it was someone else who was led into the garden, 
placed against a wall, and blindfolded. Von 
Glahn, a young officer, came and stood beside him. 

‘‘The firing squad will be here at once,” he said. 
“I am sorry. Is there any message I can deliver 
for you?” 

And then outside a bugle rang out, and there 
was a burst of wild, frenzied yelling and the next 
moment a crash of firing. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE COSSACKS 

Something fell against Fred, something heavy 
and warm. It was a full minute before he real- 
ized that it was von Glahn, staggering, coughing. 
He supported the German officer for a moment. 
Then they went down together with von Glahn, 
still coughing terribly, on top. That saved Fred ’s 
life. For over him now, for the next five minutes, 
there raged a furious fight. Horses were all 
through the grounds; Fred heard them, and the 
savage, unearthly cries of their riders. For the 
first minute there was a good deal of firing. He 
guessed that the firing squad that had been meant 
for him was putting up a stiff struggle; later he 
knew it. 

Then abruptly it was all over. There was no 
sound save the groans of wounded men. The 
firing ceased, and with it the fierce shouts of those 
who had invaded the garden at that most critical 

137 


138 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


of moments. Fred realized afterward that he 
must have fainted, for when next he could see 
and hear, there was a faint light in the sky. He 
was aroused by the moving of the heavy weight 
of vonGlahn^s body, and looked up to see a 
bearded man, small and wiry, in a rough sheep- 
skin coat, who grinned down at him. 

*‘Not hurt, eh, comrade!” said this man in 
Russian. He seemed surprised when Fred an- 
swered in his own tongue, and started back. But 
he had pushed the body of the German captain 
away, and Fred rose to his feet a little unsteadily. 
It was a wild, strange scene upon which his eyes 
rested. All about the place where he had lain the 
ground was covered with evidences of a furious 
struggle. Nearly a score of Germans lay about, 
dead. Among them were half a dozen Cossacks, 
and over one of these stood a riderless horse, muz- 
zling his master’s body inquisitively. Fred was 
about to question the man who had relieved him 
of vonGlahn’s weight when there was a sudden 
rush, and Boris, sobbing with delight, threw his 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


139 


arms about Mm and Mssed Mm on both cheeks. 

‘‘Here — say, Boris, don’t do that!” he cried. 

‘‘Oh, I forgot that is not your custom!” said 
Boris. ‘ ‘ But I thought you were dead ! I thought 
they had killed you! I saw them bring you out 
from my window, and if the sentry had not stopped 
me, I would have thrown myself out to join you! 
Come with me — ^my father is here!” 

Fred was stiU dazed. His escape had been so 
miraculous that he wanted to pinch himself to see 
if he were still awake. A month before he had 
been at home in America, envied by the rest of his 

r 

patrol because he was actually to go to far-off 
Russia by himself. And since then he had been 
three times a prisoner, had been in danger of exile 
to Siberia, and just now had escaped by mere 
seconds meeting a blast of bullets from a German 
firing squad, a victim of a war that had not even 
been dreamed of when he had sailed from Amer- 
ica! 

But there could be no real doubt of the truth 
as he followed Boris into the house. In the dimng- 


140 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


room where he had been sentenced to death, he 
came upon Lieutenant Ernst, chatting amiably 
with half a dozen Russian officers in their white 
coats. The German grinned at him. 

‘‘You’re in luck, youngster,” he said. “I’m 
not so sorry, really! They didn’t get what they 
came after, you see.” 

“No, worse luck!” said a Russian. “How did 
the old fox know we were coming f” 

Ernst only looked wise, and did not answer. 
Fred was surprised by the way in which captive 
and captors mingled, seemingly on the most 
friendly terms. But when he thought it over, it 
did not seem so strange. Ernst and these Russians 
knew what a huge thing this war was. Each had 
his part to play, and would play it as well as he 
could. But individuals, after all, could not count 
for much, and the man who was prisoner to-day 
might be on top to-morrow. Later bitterness and 
personal hatred might come, but as yet, as Fred 
began to understand, these men hadn’t come to 
that. They were like players on rival football 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


141 


teams after a hotly contested game. In the play 
each man would fight his hardest; after the 
whistle blew, friendship ruled. The referee 
whistle had blown when Ernst was caught in a 
trap. 

Boris pushed on into a smaller room. Here 
Fred saw a man he would have known anywhere 
as Boris’s father, and, for that matter, as some 
close relative of his mother. Alexander SuvarofP, 
General of Division in the Russian army, looked 
very much like Mikail, but there was a sharp dif- 
ference between them. This Suvaroff was as 
kindly in aspect as the other was repellent and 
harsh. His eyes twinkled affectionately when he 
saw Fred. 

“Welcome, cousin,” he said. “Even if our 
chief purpose faded, I am glad we got here in time 
to save you. You heard that General von Hinden- 
burg got away?” 

* ‘ I knew that before we were caught, ’ ’ said Fred, 
“but I didn’t know you had come for him.” 

‘ Of course they did I ’ ’ said Boris. ‘ ‘ Your wire- 


142 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


less message told the staff lie was here, and my 
father led a cavalry raid behind the German lines 
to try to catch him. But — he ran away!^’ 

The general laughed at the contempt in Boris's 
tone 

‘‘Of course he ran away!" he said. “I only 
wonder how he knew we were coming! That was 
bad luck — because not once did we strike so much 
as a German patrol as we rode." 

“I can tell you," said Fred. “An aeroplane 
brought word. Its pilot must have seen you as 
he flew overhead, and suspected that you were 
coming here. ' ' ' 

“So!" Suvaroff frowned. “I did not think of 
that! However, it is better than what we sus- 
pected at first. It looked as if someone at head- 
quarters must have betrayed the plan. Well, it 
was too good to come true. If we had caught him 
and his staff, we might have hastened the end 
of the war by a good many months. Von Hinden- 
burg is the ablest general in Germany, though ho 
has been in disgrace for years. They sent for him 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHED 


143 


as soon as war came. He ^11 do good work.’^ 

Fred was thinking. 

‘‘If that aeroplane saw yon coming, general,’’ 
he said, “isn’t there danger that they may try to 
surround you here?” 

“Yes, more than danger. They are sure to try 
to do itl But their cavalry is very slow, and I do ^ 
not believe they have infantry enough near by to 
make any trouble for us.” He frowned thought- 
fully. “There is something very peculiar about 
the whole situation around here I K von Hinden- 
burg is here, it means that theii* chief concentra- 
tion on this front must be here. And yet we get 
reports of an astonishingly smaU number of 
troops! Not more than two corps.” 

Boris looked eagerly at his father, and then at 
Fred. But before he could speak General Suvar- 
off went on, crisply. 

“You can ride ? ” he asked Fred. ‘ ‘ Good 1 1 will 
see that you and Boris have horses. Then we 
shall start. We can be back in our own lines 
before daylight.” 


144 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


Fred hesitated. Then Boris took the words 
from his mouth. 

‘ ‘ Father, I want to stay ! ^ ^ he said, eagerly. * ‘ It 
will he safe, I can get back to the house and they 
can never catch me there, you know! They may 
not even search for me, but if they do, I can hide 
from them in the tunnel. And you say the Ger- 
man movement about here is puzzling. Would 
it not be well to have some way of sending word 
from here? Ivan is at work. But no matter what 
he discovers, if we are not at the house, it will do 
no good. Let me stay!’' 

*‘I should like to stay, too,” said Fred. 

^‘Impossible!” said General Suvaroff at once 
to that. “You would be shot as soon as you were 
caught — ^you are under sentence now. They 
would not treat you as a prisoner of war, even if 
they caught you among my troopers.” 

“But if they did not catch me — ” 

“No! I cannot let you take so great a risk. 
You are of my kin, and I owe a duty to your 
mother. I shall see that you get back safely to 


IN RUSSIAN TRENmES 


145 


Enssia and are sent home by sea from there. 

‘‘But if I go into Russia, I shall be arrested — 
those are Prince MikaiPs orders,’’ said Fred, 
quietly. ‘ ‘ I am sure to be caught there, and here 
there is a chance that I may not be found. If you 
take Lieutenant Ernst with you as a prisoner, no 
one among the Germans will know me, except as 
I appear now. If I change back to my own clothes, 
I shall be safe from anything worse than detention. 
None of the officers of the court-martial escaped, 
did they?” 

‘‘No, that is true,” said Suvaroff. He spoke 
thoughtfully. It was plain that Fred ’s argument 
was making an impression on him. “I have 
heard something of your affair with Mikail. I 
shall look into that. Eh — I don’t know just what 
to do!” 

‘‘Let us stay!” pleaded Boris. “We will be 
careful, and we know now just what dangers we 
must avoid.” 

‘ ‘ I think we shall be back here, in force, before 
the week is out,” said his father, after a moment’s 


146 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


reflection. ‘‘Very well, you shall stay I It is 
true that you may be of the greatest service. I 
have not the right to consider personal matters 
when the welfare of Russia is at stake. ’ ^ 

It was light by now. In curious contrast to the 
shambles of the garden and the disorder of the 
house, its windows shattered by bullets, its furni- 
ture broken and draperies tom in the swift con- 
flict that had followed the appearance of the 
Cossacks, roosters were crowing outside and birds 
were singing. General Suvaroff gave a sharp 
order; subordinates passed it along. A bugle 
sounded, and, five minutes later, after the gen- 
eral had said good-bye to the two scouts, the 
Cossack raiders rode away. They were stmng 
out in a long column along the road. As they 
passed through the village Fred and Boris, watch- 
ing from an upper window of the abandoned 
parsonage, saw the villagers watching. Boris 
had a powerful field glass, and through this he and 
Fred could see the very faces of the watching 
Germans. Hatred and fear mingled in the looks 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


147 


they sent after the invaders of their country. 

‘‘One can’t blame them,” said Fred, with a 
shudder. “ War ’s rather ghastly, isn ’t it, Boris ? ’ ’ 

He looked down into the garden, and Boris’s 
eyes followed his. 

“Yes,” said the Russian. “That’s the ugly 
part of it. It’s all ugly. But sometimes war 
must come, it seems to me. We in Russia have 
never wanted to make war. We have fought 
because we were forced to fight. I think that is 
what history will say of us in this war.” 

“They are not going toward Russia,” said 
Fred, looking after the raiders, who were melting 
into the landscape now. “Their road seems to 
be due west.” 

“They must ride in a long circle, I suppose,” 
said Boris. “If they went straight back, they 
would run right into the Germans. There must 
be a lot of the enemy between us and the Russian 
lines — their main body, you see. And my father 
won’t want to fight. His object is to get back 
with as many men as possible. It would be use- 


148 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


less to send a thousand Cossacks against ah army 
corps.’’ 

of course! It’s wonderful to think of how 
they got here, Boris, riding right through the 
enemy’s country! It’s like the work cavalry did 
on both sides in our Civil War. They used to get 
behind the enemy’s lines and cut telegraph wires 
and railways all the time.” 

In the village, there were now more signs of 
life. As the Cossacks rode by, the street had 
been empty, but now men and women were coming 
out furtively. They began to come toward the 
parsonage. 

”Time for us to go,” said Fred, with decision. 
‘‘We wouldn’t have much chance if they caught 
us here. And if we’re to be of any use, those 
people have got to think that we’ve gone.” 

“Right!” said Boris. “Hello — look up there! 
I was afraid of that!” 

He pointed to a monoplane, flying high and 
coming from the north, from the direction of the 
Baltic. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


149 


‘‘Looking for the raiders/’ said Fred. ^‘Let’s 
hurry. I think we ought to report what has 
happened by wireless. Your father’s party may 
need help.” 


CHAPTER Xn 


THE TRICK 

It was nervous work going through the lower 
floor of the house, through the garden, trampled 
by the rush of the Cossack charge, through bushes 
clipped and torn by bullets. All about was a 
curious silence, broken only by the sounds that the 
birds made, and the humming insects, which were 
not at all disturbed by war and the ruin it left in 
its wake. It was a relief to both scouts to pass 
into the tunnel. There everything seemed normal, 
strange though the place was. And in a few 
moments they were back in the great hall of the 
Suvaroff house, and were being gi:eeted with 
delight by old Vladimir, though he reproached 

them, too, for coming back. 

Their first thought was for the wireless. Fred 
sent a brief report of what had happened, describ- 
ing the escape of General von Hindenburg. And 

then, as he was about to end the message, Ivan 

151 


152 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


stood beside him. His eyes were shining and he 
seemed greatly excited. 

‘‘Tell them that von Hindenbnrg has only a 
masking force here with very few first line 
troops/^ he said. “Most of the Germans are far 
to the south. Their plan is to join the Austrians 
in an advance from Cracow. Here they hope to 
hold the lakes with a few troops. They expect 
our army to advance. They will give up Johan- 
nisberg and Ortelsburg. They will make no stand 
at all until we come to Allen stein. The whole 
movement here is a trick. They hope to lead us 
on here and then drive a great wedge into the 
heart of Poland, until they can strike at Warsaw. 

Fred made no comment. He sent the message, 
then asked his own questions. 

“You know of the raid last night?” 

“I heard something of it — and that the old fox 
Hindenbnrg escaped. Tell me the rest.” 

“I'll be off,” he said, when they had done. 
“Half a mile away I have a cache. There is a 
motorcycle and the uniform of a German soldier 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


153 


a man of the cycle corps. I shall follow General 
Suvaroff.^’ 

“Can you catch themf^* asked Boris, doubt- 
fully. “They ride fast.’^ 

“Not so fast,^^ said Ivan. “There may be 
fighting to do as well as running, and for fighting 
you need horses that are not too tired. It would 
be foolish to save an hour or two by hard riding 
and lose everything at the end for lack of the 
power to break through. And a motorcycle can 
do better than the fastest horse.’’ 

*• ‘ But how did you get one ? ’ ’ asked Fred. * * And 
the German uniform ? ’ ’ 

Ivan smiled significantly. 

“I met a man of about my size,” he said. “I 
was walking. And I was tired. I took his cycle 
and his uniform away from him.” 

There was something about his tone and the 
look in his eyes that made Fred refrain from ask- 
ing any more questions. He admired Ivan greatly, 
but he was a little afraid of him, too. In him he 
could see what lay behind the general belief that 


154 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


Russia was still a barbarous, partially civilized 
state, the underlying truth of the old saying: 
“Scratch a Russian, and you will find a Tartar 
beneath/^ He was glad that Ivan was on his side, 
and was bound to him, moreover, by his loyalty 
to the name of Suvaroff. 

“Listen, now,’^ said Ivan. “Here it is very 
dangerous. Stay as long as you can, but never let 
yourselves be caught in the house by any Germans. 
Do not let the villagers see you. Take to the tun- 
nel without hesitation if there is an attack upon 
the house, or a search. I think you will be safe as 
long as you are watchful, but you cannot be off 
your guard for even a moment. The Germans 
will think that you went back with the Cossacks 
but they will try to make sure. * ^ 

“We will be careful,^’ said Boris. “You are 
sure of what you have learned 1 There will be no 
more than two army corps in this regiont*' 

“That is certain. I have scouted for twenty 
miles to the west and I have been along the rail- 
way lines. If there were more troops coming, I 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


155 


ehonld have discovered it I am snre of that.’’ 

“And now yon are going back toward onr 
lines r’ 

“Yes. I may be of sendee to yonr father. And, 
in any case, I shall be of more use if I am with the 
German advanced position than if I stayed here, 
far in the rear. Good-bye I ^ ’ 

He departed through the tunnel. And then for 
Fred and Boris began a task almost harder than 
any that could have been set. They had to wait. 
There was nothing for them to do except sit in the 
little turret room. Below, Vladimir and the 
others kept a sort of guard, but there seemed little 
reason even for that. 

From the turret, whence the wireless waves 
were sent pulsing out through the air, a fine view 
of the surrounding country for a good many miles 
was to be had. For the most part this was a level 
section, slightly undulating, but with very few 
high spots. From their vantage point the roads 
stretched out like ribbons or like lines on a map. 
Fred opened the wireless and amused himself by 


156 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


listening. At first he could hear only a confused 
jumble through the receivers that were clamped 
to his ear. Then he changed his wave length, 
experimenting until he got a clear series of dots 
and dashes. 

‘‘I think ITl take this down,’’ he said to Boris. 
It ’ll be like Greek to us, of course, but it’s all 
German wireless talk, and it all means something. 
Perhaps if we’re lucky, we’ll stumble on to the 
key of the code they’re using, and that might be 
useful.” 

After a time Boris, who could receive well 
enough but was an inexpert sender, relieved him, 
and Fred, taking the field glass, began to search 
the horizon. Soon something caught his eye and 
held his attention. At first he thought he saw 
troops moving, coming from the east. It seemed 
strange that German troops should be in retreat 
so soon, but in a moment he understood. He did 
not see soldiers moving along the road, but a com- 
pany of civilians, with carts that were drawn by 
men and women. At first the sight puzzled him, 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 157 

but then he understood, and he called to Boris to 
look. 

“They^re clearing out the villages toward tho 
border,’^ he said. 

Boris only glanced through the glass. 

‘‘Yes. They were doing it the day after the 
war began, too,'' he said. “It's better for them, 
of course. If civilians are about where there is 
fighting, they are in danger from both sides. The 
Germans wouldn't stop a minute at shelling one 
of their own villages if we were holding it. Fred, 
I think they must be going to send our little lot 
away, too. There are soldiers coming along the 
road — Uhlans. ' ' 

Fred looked down and saw a picket of lancers 
approaching, headed by an officer. And in a few 
minutes there were signs of great activity in the 
village. Soon the exodus began. And then the 
Uhlans turned at the road leading up to the 
great house, and began to climb. 

“Coming to warn our people, I suppose,'' smd 
Boris. “We'll make ourselves scarce, Fred. 


158 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


Vladimir can talk to them when they arrive/' 

But Fred did not go without one more sweeping 
look about him. And it showed him something 
that surprised him. 

“I've got a curious feeling," he told Boris, 
when they had slipped into the secret passage. 
“I've got what we call a hunch in America — a 
feeling that Ivan has been fooled. You didn’t 
see what I did just now. I'm perfectly certain I 
saw troops marching on two roads that aren 't very 
far apart, to the north." 

“Marching east or west?" 

“East. I think a real trap is being prepared, 
Boris. And — I'm going to try to find out the 
truth!" 

“How?" 

“I'd better not tell you, Boris. Go back and 
listen — see what you ean hear at the thin wall. 
I'm afraid that if we both go we might be heard, 
if they are near there. I want to know where 
those Uhlans come from." 

“All right," said Boris, wondering a little. H© 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


15d 

went off, and Fred, as soon as he had disappeared, 
began to make his way very quietly, almost stealth- 
ily, indeed, toward the other end of the tunnel — 
the one that gave to the open air. 

“He’d never have let me go if I had told him,” 
he said to himself, feeling the need of justifying 
what looked like treachery, since his own con- 
science was accusing him. “And I didn’t lie to 
him. I didn’t say that I would he there when he 
came back. I only hope I get out before he finds 
I’ve gone!” 

When he reached the opening he felt safe, and 
there he stopped and wrote a note to Boris, telling 
him what he meant to do and why he had not 
taken him into his confidence before. 

“He’s sure to find that,” said Fred to himself. 
“He’ll come down here looking for me, and I sup- 
pose he’d go out, too, no matter how dangerous it 
might be, if I didn’t leave this note.” 

As he swung the door that let him out, Fred 
felt the little thrill that always came to him when 
he opened the way thus to the outer air. Ever 


160 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


since lie had come upon the German soldier here 
the first time, he had had this feeling. This time, 
however, the way was clear, and he slipped ont 
and made his way swiftly toward the parson- 
age. He took advantage of every bit of cover 
for he had no wish to be seen, at least as yet. Soon 
he reached the vantage spot he sought. Prom it 
he commanded a view of the village, and of the 
entrance to the great Suvaroff house on the hill as 
well. 

The dismal procession from the village had 
already begun. The place, in fact, was already 
almost entirely deserted. Orders from the army 
evidently counted for a good deal here. Fred 
wondered what Americans would have done in a 
like case. But the departure of the villagers, who 
knew him, and might have recognized him even in 
his German guise, relieved him immensely. Before 
the house on the hill he could see a mounted Uhlan 
on guard over the horses. The rest had gone 
inside. There were only five of them altogether, 
which made him feel confident that none would 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


161 


be left behind. There were too few for that. 

As time passed, he wondered why they stayed 
inside so long. In a way, it was to his liking that 
they should, but it made him nervous. He was 
afraid that a real search was being made; afraid 
that, by some stroke of misfortune, Boris’s hid- 
ing-place had been revealed. But at last he saw 
the solitary horseman outside the house stiffen to 
rigid attention. Then the others came out, and 
he almost shouted in his relief when he saw that 
they brought no one with them. The officer 
swung to his saddle and in a minute more the 
little command was cantering down the hill. Fred 
looked at the village searchingly now. There was 
no one left. A quarter of a mile away the rear 
end of the wretched procession of refugees strag- 
gled along the road, going west. They were not 
looking back. 

Now it was time to put his plan to the test. The 
chances of full success, as he understood perfectly, 
were most remote. And the danger was great. 
He had not seen these Uhlans; there might well be 


162 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


someone even in that small party who would recog- 
nize him. And he knew what would happen then, 
if he were caught. But his plan compelled him 
to run that risk, and he emerged from his shelter, 
and struck out boldly along the road the Uhlans 
had taken to come to the village. He walked 
northeast, and he knew that that in itself would 
be suspicious, but it was all part of his plan. 

He had not long to wait for the plan to begin, 
or at least to work out according to his calcula- 
tions. Behind him he heard a shout, but, affect- 
ing not to hear it, he did not turn. And in a few 
moments he heard the sound of galloping hoofs 
behind him. Even then he did not turn until a 
Uhlan had ridden past him. 

‘^StopI^^ cried the soldier. Where are you 
going?'' 

Fred looked at him blankly. 

'‘Stop!" said the German again, for Fred, after 
having looked at him, had moved on. Still Fred 
paid no attention, and the man rode up to him 
and leaned over, dropping a heavy hand ob his 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


163 


shonlder and shaking him in no gentle way. 

‘ ‘ Where are yon going, I say 1 Answer I ’ ^ roared 
the Uhlan. 

But Fred only smiled and pointed first to his 
ears and then to his month. By pantomime he 
pretended to be deaf and dumb. And when the 
officer came up, Fred was still smiling — and silent. 
He knew he had never seen this officer before. 




CHAPTEE Xm 


THE ESCAPE 

‘‘What’s the matter with him, Schmidt?” asked 
the officer. 

Fred knew enough of German uniforms by this 
time to place him as a lieutenant of the lowest 
grade, and was thankful that he did not have an 
experienced man to deal with. 

“Deaf and dumb, I think, Herr Lieutenant,” 
said the man. “I rode up behind him, calling to 
him and making a good deal of noise, but he did 
not even know I was coming until I was on top of 
him.” 

“Well, he can’t go this way!” said the lieuten- 
ant. “How are we to make him understand 
that?” 

“If I dismounted and turned him about, he 
might perhaps understand,” said the soldier. 

“Try it!” 

Fred had hard work to conceal his amusement 

165 


166 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


but he managed it. The soldier solemnly turned 
him about and pushed him in the direction whence 
he had come. But Fred immediately turned 
around, walked a couple of paces as he had been 
going, and then stopped, smiling broadly. Then 
he turned around, shook his head violently, and 
turned back. 

‘‘He’s trying to tell us he wants to keep on the 
way he was going,” said the lieutenant. 

The two Germans seemed to be puzzled, but then 
the officer got an idea. He produced paper and 
pencil and wrote hurriedly. 

“Who are you? Where are you going?” he 
wrote. Then he handed the paper to Fred. Fred 
hesitated for a moment. He understood German 
and could talk it very well. But he was a little 
nervous about writing it, especially in the German 
script. He could write it, but he was not sure that 
he could write it so well that it would seem like the 
work of a German. However, he took the chance. 

“My name is Gebhardt,” he wrote. “I come 
from Munich, and I am visiting my uncle and aunt 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


167 


here at Gumbinnen. My uncle sent me to Inster- 
berg and then I found I could not go back by train. 
Soldiers have made me turn around so many times 
that it has taken me all this time to get here. 
Why can I not go to Gumbinnen?” 

The officer took the paper and, when he had read 
it, told the soldier. They seemed to find Fredas 
explanation plausible, and his writing had passed 
muster. 

“Here is a fine mess!” said the lieutenant. 
“Poor boy! I feel sorry for one with such an afflic- 
tion! And is he not between the devil and the 
deep blue sea? In Gumbinnen there will be 
Russian cavalry by to-morrow — and at Insterberg, 
I suppose, the first real battle will be fought!” 

Fred caught his breath. He was getting what 
he wanted now, certainly! If only he did not 
betray himself! If the offlcer would only go on 
and tell him a little more! And he did go on, 
almost as if he were speaking to himself. 

“If his people have any sense, they will have 
cleared out of Gumbinnen before this. He knows 


169 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


Bomeone at Insterberg, perhaps, but if it is the 
plan to let the Russians come so far without fight- 
ing and then strike while they are there, the 
population will have been ordered out. Ajid they 
have been unloading troop trains at Insterberg, 
too — so that the Russians would not find out how 
many men we had here. Eh — take him up behind 
you, Schmidt! We can’t abandon him. Perhaps 
the hospital people or the cooks can make some use 
of him.” 

Fred heard this with a start of dismay. It was 
decidedly more than he had bargained for, because 
now that he had the information he had come to 
get, he wanted to get back to the wireless as 
quickly as possible. It did him no good to know 
the German plan, or to have a hint of what it was, 
unless he could pass on his knowledge to those who 
could make some use of it. But he could not pro- 
test when the officer wrote down an explanation 
of what was to be done with him, telling him that 
the road to Gumbinnen was not safe, but that he 
would see to it that Fred should get to a safe place. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


169 


So when the soldier Schmidt patted his horse's 
back and indicated that Fred should climb up, 
Fred had no choice but to obey. He had plenty 
to think of, too, as they rode along For one 
thing, while he had taken his chance and won, 
since this oflScer had not seen him before, there 
was every prospect that he would be recognized 
if he were now taken to headquarters. He sup- 
posed that that was where they were going, and 
he knew that a number of the officers who had left 
the parsonage with General von Hindenburg on 
the night of the Cossack raid would be present. 
It would be strange, indeed, if none of them knew 
him. And it took no imagination to guess what 
recognition would mean. 

There was just one thing in his favor now. It 
was beginning to get dark. He did not know how 
far they had to ride, but he hoped it was a long 
way. Ordinarily, he would not have wanted the 
ride to be prolonged because his position was 
highly uncomfortable. Fred could ride well him- 
self, but riding alone on a horse and sitting behind 


170 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


a man who fills his own saddle with very little to 
spare are two different things. 

Try as he would, Fred could not think of a 
means of getting away. To escape from five 
mounted men by slipping off the horse and running 
for it was manifestly impossible. He gave up that 
idea before he even elaborated upon it. But soon 
the glimmering dawn of an idea did come to him. 
The pace slackened, and he noticed that he and 
Schmidt were falling behind. The lieutenant 
called out sharply, and Schmidt, growling to him- 
self beneath his breath, used his spur and brought 
his horse up into alignment with the others again. 
But only for a hundred yards or so. Then the 
horse faltered and fell behind again. Now the 
lieutenant reproved Schmidt sharply. 

‘‘I’m sorry, Herr Lieutenant,’^ said Schmidt. 
“My poor beast is very tired, and he is carrying 
an extra burden. He has had more work to do to- 
day than any of the others. If you would permit 
me to drop behind and come in alone — it is not so 
far now?” 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


171 


‘ ‘Very well, ’ ’ said the lieutenant. “ We T1 never 
get there if we hang back waiting for you.^’ And 
he gave the word to ride on. 

Schmidt at once began to take things more 
easily. Fred heard him grunting to himself. 

“Those verdamter young officersl^’ he grum- 
bled. “Just because they have a pair of shoulder 
straps, they think they know it all I I would like 
to put some of them across my knee I “ 

Fred knew enough of German discipline to be 
vastly amused by this. But he had no time now 
to think of trifling things. His whole energy was 
devoted to finding some way to turn this new 
circumstance to his own advantage. It seemed to 
him that there ought to be some way of managing 
it. And in a moment he got the idea. Schmidt 
was as tired as his horse, or even more so, and by 
this time he was swaying in his saddle and half 
asleep, as a trained horseman often does. Fred 
leaned forward and very quietly cut the saddle 
girth almost through. He knew that the slightest 
strain would finish the work. Schmidt was utterly 


172 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


unconscious of what was going on. Fred could 
tell, from the man’s breathing, just what his con- 
dition was. He would snore a little and then, with 
a start, he would arouse himself, breathing nor- 
mally for a minute. Then the snoring would 
start again. He was trusting himself entirely to 
his horse. 

Dusk had fallen now, and Fred decided that it 
was time to see if his plan was feasible. He took 
a handkerchief from his pocket, rolled it into a 
ball, and flung it straight ahead, so that it fell, 
unrolling, right before the horse’s eyes. The 
effect was inevitable. The frightened horse 
reared. At the strain the severed girth gave, 
and the saddle, rolling, spilled both Schmidt and 
Fred into the road, while the horse bolted. Fred 
lay still, watching Schmidt, who rose, cursing 
fluently, and stood for a moment staring stupidly 
after his horse. Then he began to call, and broke 
into the awkward, lumbering run of the cavalry- 
man. 

Fred might have slipped away then, but he was 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


173 


sure that Schmidt would catch the horse, which 
must, he thought, be trained to stop even after a 
momentary panic. And it was not his plan to 
seize a chance that might after all not be as good 
as it looked. He wanted to make as sure as pos- 
sible of getting away. And now, as soon as 
Schmidt had started after the horse, he crawled 
over to the saddle, which lay where it had fallen. 
He took the heavy revolver from the holster and 
was duly grateful for one thing he had noticed — 
these Uhlans carried no carbines. Their only 
weapons, seemingly, were their lances and the 
revolvers in their holsters. 

He was not a moment too soon. Schmidt came 
back almost at once, leading his horse. He was 
scolding it for running, and he was also expressing 
his opinion of government saddles and leather. 
He found the broken girth, and sat down at once 
to mend it. Fred scarcely dared to breathe for a 
moment. But Schmidt did not notice the empty 
holster, and though he growled and swore when 
he saw how the girth had snapped, he did not seem 


174 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


to notice that it had been cut almost through. 

Fred went over and looked at him. Then, idly, 
indifferently, he went to the horse, which was 
standing perfectly still, though its flanks were 
still heaving. Fred patted the horse head. 
Schmidt glanced around at him. His back was 
turned, and he seemed to see nothing worthy of 
attention in Fred’s attitude. 

And then, with one spring, Fred was on the 
horse’s back, and, bending low, was urging the 
tired animal back over the road he had travelled 
so slowly. With a cry of mingled rage and sur- 
prise Schmidt leaped up and began shouting. 
But the horse, ready enough to obey when it was 
running riderless away, now obeyed the more con- 
vincing orders of its rider. Fred, moreover, was 
a welcome contrast to Schmidt’s big bulk; there 
was a difference of at least seventy pounds. 

Fred turned once to look at Schmidt, and saw 
him staring with an expression of stupefaction at 
the empty holster. Then he devoted himself en- 
tirely to the road ahead. It was as he had thought 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


175 


and hoped; Schmidt did not have another pistol. 
And, with Fred urging him on, the horse galloped 
on as if it had been really fresh. 

“Thank heaven he’s stupid, that Schmidt!” 
thought Fred. 

Then he had a fit of remorse. He was afraid 
that it would go hard with Schmidt, for he knew 
that in the German army excuses are not readily 
accepted. However, it was not a time to think 
of sentiment. Fred was taking desperate chances 
himself, and it had been a case of seizing any 
chance of escape that offered itself. Not only his 
own liberty, but very probably his own life had 
depended upon his getting away. He knew 
enough, by this time, to understand that the out- 
come of the first campaign of the war might depend 
upon the accuracy of the information the Russians 
obtained of the German movements. 

It was plain to Fred that the Russians, in this 
quarter at least, had not been well served by their 
spies. He was surprised at the absence of initia- 
tive the Russians had shown in some ways. Aero- 


176 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


plane scouting, for instance, would have made it 
impossible for the Germans to spring such a sur- 
prise as evidently was in preparation. The Ger- 
mans were using their aerial scouts. It was one of 
them, detecting the approach of General Suvaroff 
and his Cossack raiders, who had spoiled the plan 
for the capture of von Hindenhurg. 

But though he had felt that he was perfectly 
justified in sacrificing Schmidt to his own need to 
escape, Fred could not help feeling sorry for the 
poor fellow. 

‘^I hope he’ll be able to think up a good story!” 
he said to himself. ^‘And, by George, I hope I 
don’t meet any more German soldiers I They would 
certainly finish me off if they found me riding on 
a German horse! There isn’t anything I could do 
that would make them think that was all right, 
no matter how stupid they were!” 

He urged his horse on now as hard as he dared, 
tired though he knew it to be. His plan waa 
simple enough. He meant to ride to within a 
mile of the village, and then dismount, letting the 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


177 


horse go wherever it liked. Its nsefnlness to him 
would be over as soon as it had pnt him past the 
possibility of pnrsnit. He thought his troubles 
were nearly over. But suddenly, around a turn in 
the road, came a glare of light, and in his ears 
sounded the bugle of a German military auto- 
mobile. 


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CHAPTER XIV 


ALTERED PLANS 

Fred’s horse did for him what he could scarcely 
have done for himself in time. It reared and 
threw him, then bolted. Tired already, the 
sudden appearance of the monstrous ray of light 
and the roar of the approaching motor was too 
much for that horse. Fred was not hurt by the 
fall. Having had no stirrups from which to dis- 
engage his feet, he was able to let himself go. And 
he had no sooner landed than he was up. For 
just a moment, he knew he must be plainly visible 
in the glare of the searchlight. But he dashed for 
the side of the road and made his way through a 
hedge and into the field on the other side. There 
he began to run as fast and as hard as he could. 

He had two chances, he thought. One, that he 
had not been seen at all; the other, that whoever 
was in the car might think he had passed on the 
flying horse. If he had been seen, however, he 

179 


180 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


could not hope to escape by running. He was too 
tired, for one thing, after the strenuous experience 
of the previous night, and for another, he was 
almost certain to be seen, for after he had traversed 
a space that was covered with shrubs and young 
trees, he would be in the open. And a bullet could 
travel faster than he could. 

And so, after making his dash, he stopped run- 
ning and threw himself down, facing the road, to 
watch and to listen. At first he thought he was 
safe, for the car roared by. But in a moment his 
ear caught a different note in the sound of the 
motor, and then the engine stopped. It started 
again in a moment, but now the headlight was 
coming toward him again! The car had been 
turned around. It was back, undoubtedly, to 
look for him. Still he decided not to run, but to 
stay where he was, though every instinct prompted 
him to take the chance of flight. That, however, 
was pure panic, and he fought against the impulse. 

The car came along slowly. He was not more 
than a hundred feet from the road, and the head- 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


181 


light showed him the progress of the car. Its 
blinding light, however, made it impossible for 
him to see the car itself or its occupants. It gave 
them the advantage. Finally the car stopped, 
and he groaned. It had stopped exactly opposite 
his hiding-place! He had hoped that they would 
not be able to tell just where he had left the road, 
but in a moment the explanation came to him. He 
had trampled down the hedge in getting through, 
of course, and had left a trail that a child might 
have followed. 

Then the headlight was switched off, and for a 
moment he lost the car altogether. His ears, 
rather than his eyes, told him that someone was 
coming. He heard the breaking down of the 
hedge, and then footsteps moving slowly, but com- 
ing closer. And in a moment he saw a little 
stabbing ray of light that wandered back and 
forth. Whoever was stalking him was evidently 
not afraid of him. 

Suddenly he remembered his pistol, the one he 
had taken from Schmidt’s holster. He gripped it 


182 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


convnlsiv^ely. After all, he was not as helpless as 
he had believed. He waited. Should he risk all 
now, with a shot — a shot that might warn this 
stalker otf and give him another chance to escape, 
even though there were others in the car? He 
drew out the pistol, and cocked it. Then, at the 
faint sound, a voice called to him out of the 
darkness. 

‘ * Do not fire ! It is I — Ivan ! Ivan Ivanovitch ! ’ ’ 
For a moment Fred thought he was going to 
collapse, so great was the relief and the slackening 
of tension. He did laugh out, but caught himself 
at once. 

‘‘Ivan I he said. “I thought it was a German 
officer! It is I, Ivan — Fred Waring!^’ 

“I knew it,’’ said Ivan, coming up close. “I 
saw you for just a second as your horse reared. 
It was just a flash of your face, but if I have ever 
seen a face once, I never forget it. And you have 
the look of a Suvaroff about you, even though yon 
are different. I would have known you for one 
of the breed had I met you anywhere in the world, 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


183 


had no one told me who yon were. And so I 
turned to find yon and follow yon. 

‘'But what are yon doing here? I thought yon 
were to rejoin our own army?’’ 

‘ ‘ I was pressed into service as a chauffeur. This 
car was needed near the front, and there was no 
one to drive it. I deceived them wholly, with my 
uniform, and my motorcycle. And so they forced 
this car upon me! My plan was to use it, instead 
of my cycle, to get past their lines.” 

“But you are riding straight to Gumbinnen — 
and they are near there in force ! ’ ’ 

“No, they have retreated from there. They 
know that we are too strong for them, and they do 
not care to fight.” 

“Yes, and do you know why? Because they 
have been bringing troops up secretly to Inster- 
berg, and are planning to fight a great battle there 
on their own grounds! You were wrong, Ivan, 
in the information you sent.” 

Wasting no words, he quickly told of what he 
had learned that evening. And Ivan smote his 


184 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


hands together for he was deeply troubled. 

‘‘And I thought I knew all their plans!’’ he 
said, savagely. “If the staff had acted upon my 
information, we should have marched into a trap!” 

“Now I must get to the wireless,” said Fred. 
“That was what I meant to do when you fright- 
ened my horse there in the road.” 

‘ ‘ Come, I will drive you back. It will not take 
long, and your work is more important than mine 
now. It is safe, too. You can be hidden in the 
car in case we encounter any Germans. But that 
is not likely. They are not as thick in this dis- 
trict as they were forty-eight hours ago.” 

They made their way together to the car^ and 
Fred laughed. 

“I don’t think I was ever so scared as when you 
turned and came back. It was worse, in a way, 
than when they were going to shoot me in the par- 
sonage garden. I’d been so sure I was safe — and 
then to hear that bugle call on your car ! ’ ’ 

“It is not right for you to run such risks,” said 
Ivan. “I wish you were behind our lines! You 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


185 


are not even a Russian, and yet you have been near 
to death for us/’ 

‘‘Don’t you worry about me!” said Fred. “I 
don’t suppose that I would have started this, but 
when I was pushed into it as I was, I feel like doing 
all I can. If the Germans had caught me when 
Boris hid me in the tunnel, they would have treated 
me like an enemy, so I thought I might as well give 
them a good excuse, since they were going to do it 
anyhow, ’ ’ 

“Here we are,” said Ivan. “Even if you were 
frightened, this may turn out well. You will save 
some time, and I can take you to the very opening 
of the tunnel.” 

“Well, it’s only fair for this car to do me a good 
turn after the fright it gave me, ’ ’ said Fred. 

Ivan drove swiftly when they started again. On 
that deserted road, through a country that had 
been blasted by the approach of war, though as 
yet there had been no actual fighting, there was no 
reason for cautious driving. And five minutes 
brought them to the parsonage, and so to a point 


186 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


as close to tlie opening of the tunnel as the car 
could go. As the motor stopped Ivan swore in 
surprise. 

‘‘Look!^’ he said. 

To the west there were a dozen darting search- 
lights winking back and fortli across the sombre 
sky. And below the searchlights were hundreds 
of tiny points of fire. 

^ * They ’re advancing ! ” he cried. * ‘ And listen ! ’ ’ 

From the east there came a dull sound that rose 
presently to a steady, loud roar. 

Everything has changed!” cried Ivan, his face 
white. ‘‘We are pushing the attack — we must 
have occupied Gumbinnen! The Germans are 
being driven back — and they are bringing up their 
supports! They must mean to fight here to pro- 
tect the railway! This place will be the centre 
of a battle before morning! I shall give up my 
plan. The only thing that counts now is to get 
word to the staff of what is going on back here! 
Come!” 


“What about the car?” 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


187 


* * If it is still here after we have sent word, good ! 
If it is not, we must do without it.’^ 

Ivan began running toward the mouth of the 
tunnel. But Fred, before he followed, switched 
off the lights and ran the car off the side of the 
road, so that it was under the wall of the parson- 
age garden and sheltered, to a certain extent, by 
the heavy foliage of a large tree, whose branches 
overhung the wall. 

‘^I’d like to think that that car was where we 
could get at it,’^ he said to himself. “I have an 
idea that this place is going to be mighty unpleas- 
ant before long.^’ 

Then he followed Ivan. The Russian had 
already entered the tunnel. Fred, when he fol- 
lowed him, heard him running up the long passage 
that led up to the house. Before he could reach the 
opening, however, he heard other steps coming 
toward him, and a moment later Boris was heaping 
reproaches on him. 

‘^I thought they had caught you!” he cried. 
‘‘I saw them chasing someone, and it looked like 


188 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


you. In fact, I was sure it was you at first sight. 

‘‘It was,^^ said Fred, grimly. “ITl tell you 
about that later, Boris! You^d better get every- 
one out of this place. We can^t stay here any 
longer. Unless I’m greatly mistaken, this will be 
used as a target for artillery by morning. It will 
if Ivan is right.” 

“He rushed by me just now. He would say 
nothing except that you were behind. ’ ’ 

“He’s at the wireless. Come on I We’ll see if 
he has found out anything more.” 

For ten minutes after they reached the turret, 
they could get nothing out of Ivan, who was send- 
ing hard, with only an occasional pause to listen 
to what the other operator sent to him. Then he 
sat back with a sigh of relief. 

“We were in time!” he said. “These troops 
back here are the ones that were supposed to be 
massing behind Liok, to resist the feint we were 
making there. They are too clever, those Ger- 
mans! They have their airships to tell them the 
truth, and their railways to move men swiftly from 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


189 


one side to* another. But they have not enough 
men I We shall beat them yet. Our attack will 
stop. See — look here ! ’ ^ 

He moved to a table, and with pens and pencils 
made a rough diagram of the position. 

•‘They gave up Gumbinnen without a fight, 
and formed in a half circle behind. They had so 
few men there that it was an invitation to us to try 
to outflank them. Our right could sweep out and 
draw in behind their left — so. And then their 
supporting troops could outflank our right, in turn, 
and it would be caught between two fires! They 
have fewer troops than we in East Prussia to-day, 
but ours are separated, while they risked all to 
bring all theirs together at this one point and left 
the south unguarded from Mlawa to Liok! Oh, 
it was daring — Napoleon might have planned 
that!^’ 

“I see,’’ said Fred. “Then when they had won 
here, they could have used their railway to move 
troops southward?” 

“Exactly so! A hundred and fifty thousand 


190 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


men all together can beat a hundred thousand, if 
all else is equal. But one army of a hundred 
thousand can beat two of seventy-five thousand 
apiece, meeting them at different times. So our 
attack will stop. We shall leave a covering force 
here at Gumbinnen — or perhaps all our troops here 
will stay, but on the defensive, while others are 
rushed up from Grodno to outflank them, not on 
their right, as they hoped, but on their extreme 
MtV* 

He was silent for a moment. 

“I need one man here,’’ he said. ‘‘One man, to 
keep the engine running for the dynamo. Every- 
one else must leave this house. You, Boris Petro- 
vitch, most of all — you and your cousin. I am 
responsible to your father for your safety for it 
is through my fault that the plans were badly 
made.” 

“But why must you stay, Ivan?” asked Boris. 

“I must stay until I am ordered away,” said 
Ivan. “But it will not be safe here after day- 
light — perhaps there will be trouble even before 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


191 


that. Yes, I think it will be very soon now.” 

“Well, I think I shall stay,” said Fred. 

“No,” said Ivan. “Listen! If yon go now, 
quickly, yon can get away in the car. Here is the 
road yon must follow.” He took a map and 
pointed. ‘ ‘ See — swing west first, and then 
south — far south. So yon will be safe from the 
Germans, for they have abandoned that section 
except for the railway from Insterberg to Liok. 
That is guarded, but thinly. In the car are two 
long coats such as the German officers wear, and 
two helmets. They are under the rear seat. Put 
those on, and you will pass most of their sentries, 
if you should encounter them.” 

“If he says we must go, we must do it,” said 
Boris, quickly. “I should like to stay, too, Fred, 
but he is right. We can do no good here, and if 
you are caught it will be very bad. It would not 
matter with me, for they would only treat me as a 
prisoner. ’ ’ 

Fred was still unwilling. He had not Boris’s 
Russian readiness to accept whatever came, but 


192 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


there was something about Ivan that convinced 
him that argument would be useless. 

‘ ‘ Go no w, ’ ’ said Ivan, ‘ ‘ and God go with you I I 
will see to it that Vladimir and the others follow.’’ 

And so Fred went through the tunnel again, this 
time with Boris. He wondered if he would ever 
see this place again. 


CHAPTER XV 


A, DASH THROUGH THE NIGHT 

Both boys were startled when they reached the 
open air again to observe how the din of the battle 
to the east had increased. They paused for a 
moment to stare at one another. 

*^That is real war/’ said Boris. '‘Not like the 
skirmish here when the Cossacks came.” 

“The Germans are giving way on purpose, of 
course, if Ivan is right — and it seems to me he 
must be,” said Fred. “I am afraid to think of 
what will happen to him. ’ ’ 

“ I do not like to think of it, either, ’ ’ said Boris, 
“but it is fate. He has his work to do, and it is ail 
for Russia — for God and the Czar! I have always 
been taught that we can die only once, and that it 
is a holy thing to die for Russia. ’ ’ 

“Yes, but it is better to live for Russia than to 
die for her, if it is possible, ’ ’ said Fred. ' ' Come ! 
We have no time to lose, I suppose.” 

103 


194 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


They approached the car in a death-like silence* 
It was still where Fred had left it. There was a 
little delay in the start. Both Fred and Boris had 
driven cars, but they were not familiar with this 
one, and it seemed a good idea to learn the controls 
before they started. But in a few moments they 
were off. The car rode easily, and the motor was 
very powerful. It was a silent one, too, consider- 
ing its great power. Fred took the wheel first. 

* ‘ We can take it in turns, ’ ’ he said. ‘ * Get some 
sleep, if you can, Boris. I’ll rouse you if there is 
any need of that. And ITl be glad to rest myself, 
after a time. Just now I’m too excited to sleep, 
even if there were no especial reason for keeping 
awake. ’ ’ 

There was something so wonderful, so weird that 
it was almost ghostly, about that ride in its begin- 
ning. Behind them was the din of the heavy 
fighting between them and Gumbinnen. The sky 
was streaked with the flashes of searchlights, and 
the vibration of the cannon beat against their ears 
incessantly. Yet the road before them, as it lay 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 195 

like a white ribbon in the path of the great head- 
light, was absolutely empty. They passed houses, 
went through villages. And in none of the 
houses was there a light or a sign of life. The 
whole countryside had been abandoned. 

'‘It reminds me of things IVe read about the 
plague in olden times,'' thought Fred. "People 
used to run away like that then, and leave a dead 
countryside behind them. It would almost look 
more natural if there were signs of fighting. ' ' 

There were to be plenty all about here soon. 
But that night there was nothing, save the inferno 
of noise and the dazzling points of light in the sky 
behind them, to suggest anything save the deepest 
peace. Grain stood in some of the fields. In 
others, where the harvesting had begun, there 
were reaping machines. But despite the noise, 
there was a strange and unearthly silence. Fred 
had driven at night through lonely country before, 
and he could remember the way dogs at almost 
every house had burst into furious Marking as the 
car approached. Now there were no dogs! It 


196 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


was a trifling thing to think of now, but just then 
it seemed to Fred that the absence of the dogs 
meant even more than the dark, silent houses 
themselves. 

The houses did look as if their owners might be 
asleep within, but the dogs would have barked 
their alarm. And so that came to be the symbol 
of the flight of the people to him. 

They had many miles to go. After a couple of 
hours Fred changed seats with Boris, and for a 
time dozed, though he scarcely slept. However, 
he did get a good rest, and when they came near to 
the stretch of road that Ivan had told them would 
mark the crisis of the trip, both boys were in good 
condition for the test. They slowed down at the 
sound of an engine’s whistle, the first nearby noise 
that had come to their ears since they had left the 
parsonage. It startled them tremendously at first, 
but then they remembered Ivan’s warning. 

There is one place where, for about four miles, 
the road runs very close to the railway,” he had 
said. ^^The Germans will have patrols all along 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


197 


the railway line, but there is no reason why they 
should pay any attention to you. Be watchful — 
that is the vital thing. And especially so when 
you begin to descend a long hill. At the bottom 
of that hill the railway crosses your road, and that 
culvert will be watched with especial care. After 
that you will find the way clear, for our nearest 
outposts should not be more than a mile or so 
beyond the railway there. We would have seized 
the line before, except that until we had straight- 
ened our front in that quarter it would have been 
useless to do it.’’ 

The whistle that they heard warned them that 
they were getting near to this dangerous stretch 
of road, and in a few moments the sight of a train, 
sparks flying from the smokestack of the engine, 
gave them visual proof as well. Then for a time 
they ran along parallel with the tracks. Fires 
were burning along the railway at intervals of 
about a hundred and fifty yards, and at times, in 
the firelight, they could see a dark figure moving 
slowly. 


198 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


Heaven knows what this bugle means! said 
Fred, as they drew into line with the tracks. 
‘^But if we sound it they may make up their minds 
that we ’re all right — and I ’m not anxious for them 
to get curious about us.” 

So he sounded the bugle from time to time. 
They aroused no curiosity. Plainly these sen- 
tries thought there was nothing strange about the 
passage of a military automobile, nor, in fact, was 
there. It was not likely that they would know 
enough of the general disposition of the German 
army to speculate as to what officers might be 
doing hereabout. 

‘‘Here we are! We’re beginning to dip,” said 
Boris, after a time. “The culvert Ivan spoke of 
must be at the bottom of this hill. The road gets 
away from the railway again after that, and when 
we have passed there we ought to be all right. ’ ’ 

“There’s just one thing,” said Fred, with a 
frown. “They must know just as well as Ivan 
that the Russian outposts lie not far beyond them. 
Won’t they think it strange for us to be going full 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


199 


speed toward the Russian lines this way?^’ 

^^No. I think that^s easily accounted for, Fred. 
There is a crossroad less than half a mile beyond 
that culvert. They will suppose that we mean to 
take the turn. Ivan would have thought of that, 
I'm sure, if there had been any danger that they 
would not expect us to be traveling on this road." 

‘^I guess you're right, Boris. It sounds reason- 
able. And anyway, if there is a chance, we've got 
to take it. I'm certainly not going to hesitate just 
for that after we've come as far as this. We'll 
soon know because, as you say, once we're past 
that culvert, we'll be safe. That's the crucial 
spot. ' ' 

The grade grew sharper as they descended, and 
the pace of the car increased. Now, at the bot- 
tom, stretching across the white road, they could 
see a heavy shadow and above on what was un- 
questionably the railway, half a dozen lights. 

They've got more than a sentry there. It 
seems to be a regular post," said Fred, a little 
nervous, as they approached. ^‘I'd like to slow 


200 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


down here — ^we’re taking this hill pretty fast.’^ 
“Yes/^ agreed Boris, who was driving. *‘But 
it’s not just the time to slow down, is itT’ 

“Hardly. We’ve got to shoot under there so 
fast that they won ’t have a chance to find out too 
much about us. The headlight will help us, too. 
It ought to dazzle them so that they won’t be able 
to see into the car at all. As soon as we’re close 
to them, I’m going to sound the bugle pretty 
steadily.” 

They rushed on toward the culvert faster and 
faster. The powerful headlight illuminated the 
scene before them, and they could see a dozen or 
more dark figures. And as they came closer, 
they saw that several men were looking at them, 
trying to shade their eyes with their hands. 

Fred sounded the bugle steadily now, and saw 
that this seemed to relieve the watchers. For the 
first time he took his eyes from the culvert itself 
and looked around. The road here descended 
much more steeply than the railway, and that, 
Fred judged, was the reason for the culvert. For 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


201 


the first time he realized that the culvert was not 
quite at the bottom of the hill ; that beyond it the 
road still bore downward quite sharply for a space, 
until it turned. It was plain to him that there were 
more dangers ahead than those represented by the 
soldiers on the culvert. 

The pace of the rushing car was faster now than 
would have been altogether comfortable had they 
been on a road they knew perfectly. Here, with 
a curve just ahead that was an unknown quantity, 
there was real danger in the sheer speed of the 
machine. Heavy as the car was, it lurched and 
swayed from side to side. And simply to shut 
off the power would not have been enough. More- 
over, that was something both of them would have 
feared to do. The slightest mischance, the most 
trifling circumstance, might arouse suspicion in 
the watchers on the culvert. It was necessar^^, 
and Ivan had warned them specially of this, to 
dash under that at the highest possible speed for 
there would be stationed not private soldiers 
alone, who would be likely to take it for granted 


202 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


that an officer's coat and helmet meant that all was 
well, but an officer as well. 

And an officer would be curious as to the mean- 
ing of this solitary car, rushing over a road that 
had been deserted, in all probability, for at least 
two days. No, there could be no slowing down, 
even had the fearful grade made it possible. 

Then they flashed into the shadow. For just 
a moment, before they were actually under the 
culvert, Fred, looking up, saw the white faces of 
those above, staring curiously. Then he lowered 
his head, for he knew that his face and Boris’s 
gave the lie to their helmets. Streaked with dust 
they both were, to he sure. There had been a mist 
in the low-lying country through which they had 
come, and the flying dust of the higher, drier parts 
of the road had caked on their faces. But they 
were not the faces of officers. 

Fred thought he heard a shout as they passed 
under the culvert. But shouts were not enough 
to check them. What they both feared was a 
volley. And that, as they passed out and beyond 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


203 


the menace of the culvert, did not come. 

‘ ‘ Look back ! See if they are looking after us ! ’ ^ 
cried Boris. 

‘^No!’^ Fred shouted in his ear, for now the rush 
of the wind made it difficult for them to hear any- 
thing. ‘‘The light is on us now — they might see 
too plainly. And, if we were officers going as 
fast as this, there would be no reason for us to 
look back — Oh ! Look out ! ^ ^ 

They had come to the turn. So great was their 
speed that they seemed to reach it before they 
were well out from the shadow of the culvert, yet 
they had traveled two hundred yards or more. 
There was nothing really to frighten Fred as he 
cried out unless it was the sudden imminence of 
the turn, which had seemed much further away 
when they had first seen it. It was less what he 
saw than some indefinable thing he felt. 

Whether Borises hand was wavering or whether 
some hitherto unsuspected weakness had devel- 
oped in the machine, Fred could not tell. But he 
seemed to sense somehow that all was not well. 


204 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


There was some break in the rhythm of the car^s 
movement that warned him. 

Now they took the turn. Took it on two wheels 
— on one ! For a moment it seemed that they must 
upset. Then, by a miracle, the car righted itself. 
For a moment it seemed about to straighten itself 
out and resume its flight. And then, together, 
Fred and Boris saw what lay before them, and 
Boris tried frantically to swing the car out. In 
the road lay the wreck of a huge van. 

It was too much for Boris. He did swerve the 
car, but it struck the wreck. There was a deafen- 
ing crash, and then they were hurled out onto the 
turf by the roadside, while the motor roared and 
flames leaped out over the wreck. 


CHAPTER XVI 


BETWEEN THE GRINDSTONES 

For a moment Fred was stunned by the force 
of bis fall. But it was only for a moment, since, 
by something that was very like a miracle, 
he was unhurt. He got up and looked around, a 
little dazed, for Boris. In a moment he saw him 
lying very still, his white face lighted up by the 
flames from the burning car. He ran over and he 
was vastly relieved to see that his cousin was con- 
scious. 

^‘My leg is broken, I think,’' said Boris, speak- 
ing quickly. ‘‘Fred, you must run for it alone. 
You will be able to get to the Russian lines. But 
hurry! They are coming, I’m sure! They must 
have heard the crash!” 

^‘Do you think I’m going to leave you here!” 
asked Fred, indignantly. We ’ll sink or swim to- 
gether, Boris!” 

‘ ‘ Why should two of us suffer when one can es- 

205 


206 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


cape?^’ asked Boris. Besides, youVe got to go, 
Fred, for my sake as well as for your own. They ’ll 
treat me well enough. But if they catch us here 
wearing German uniform coats — well, you know 
what that would mean ! ’ ’ 

Fred was startled. He had not thought of that. 

‘ ‘ Take my coat and helmet and get away as fast 
as you can, ’ ’ urged Boris. ‘ ‘ Then I can say that I 
have been in the car. They’d know that, of course, 
but I could make them believe that I was in it 
against my will, and that the two men in uniform 
they saw had escaped. If they catch you, they’ll 
send you back to headquarters and you’ll be rec- 
ognized there at once. Then they’d do to me what- 
ever they did to you, just because I was caught 
in your company. No, it’s the only chance for 
either of us, Fred, and you’ve got to take it 
quickly. ’ ’ 

The idea of abandoning a friend, and much more 
one who had come to mean so much to him as did 
Boris, seemed terrible to Fred. And yet it was 
impossible for him to refute Boris’s argument. His 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


207 


cousin was right. And now he could hear the 
voices of approaching men. Naturally, if the Ger- 
mans on the culvert thought that a car containing 
two German officers had been wrecked, they would 
come to the rescue. There was no time to be lost. 

''I suppose you^re right, Boris,’’ he said, with 
a groan. ‘ ‘ But it ’s the hardest thing I ’ve ever had 
to do! But it is so. It would make it worse for 
you if I stayed. That’s the only reason I’ll go, 
though! You believe that, don’t you?” 

‘‘Of course I do!” said Boris. “Haven’t you 
proved what sort you are, when you risked your 
life to try to help me to get away at the parson- 
age? Go! Hurry! Get this coat and helmet off 
me!” 

So Fred set to work. He had to move Boris 
to get the coat off, and the Russian groaned with 
the pain of his broken leg. Fred dared not wait, 
now that he had made up his mind to fly, even to 
see the extent of the injury, much less to apply 
first aid. Had there been time, he might have made 
Boris comfortable, for, like all well trained Boy 


208 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


Scouts, he understood the elementary principles 
of bandaging and had made more than one tem- 
porary setting in splints for broken bones. But 
he knew that the Germans would be there in a 
minute or two, and he had no reason to suppose 
that they would lack common humanity. They 
would care for Boris. Probably they had a sur- 
geon back at the culvert, or fairly near at hand, 
at any rate. 

‘^Get off the road,” said Boris, gritting his 
teeth. ‘ ‘ My head is swimming, and I ^m afraid I ’m 
going to faint or do some Such foolish thing! But 
donT stay in the road. They’re sure to go along, 
looking for you.” 

Fred had reasoned that out for himself. And 
now, when he had rolled up Boris’s coat and hel- 
met into a bundle, he leaped a narrow ditch and 
plunged into a thick mass of bushes. He did not 
know the country here, and had no notion of what 
sort of cover he might find. But luck was with 
him though for a moment he thought he had 
stumbled into a disastrous predicament. The 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


209 


ground gave way beneath him suddenly and he 
felt himself falling. He relaxed instinctively, and 
came down on hands and knees on a mass of leaves 
and twigs. He had fallen into a sort of shallow 
pit, but deep enough to shelter him. It seemed to 
him to be like a deadfall, such as he knew trap- 
pers sometimes make. The place was ideal for 
such a use, but now no steel- jawed trap yawned for 
him. And it was only a moment before he realized 
that this was just the hiding-place for him — and 
one, moreover, for which he himself might have 
searched in vain. 

‘‘They’ll never look for me as near the wreck 
as this,” he said to himself. “They’ll spread out 
probably, but I think I’ll be safe here. As safe 
as anywhere, and it will give me a chance to find 
out what’s happening, too.” 

The side of the pit nearest the road was almost 
open, though it was screened by bushes and foli- 
age. Fred, however, was able to peer out and to 
see the dancing flames, giving a weird and ghostly 
to the scene in the road. The Ger- 


appearance 


210 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


mans were very close now and he had just time to 
poke up some branches to hide the opening 
through which he had fallen. Then he lay down, 
his eyes glued to a sort of natural peephole that 
gave him a view of the road. 

‘‘It’s like a grandstand seat!” he said. “But 
I hope no one wants to see my ticket because I’m 
afraid the usher would make me change my seat!” 

But then Fred had to give his whole attention 
to what was going on in the road. The Germans 
came running up, a young officer in the lead. There 
were a half dozen of them. At first, as they looked 
about near the burning car, they saw no one. But 
then one of the soldiers saw Boris and raised a 
shout. The officer went over, leaned down and 
then started back with a cry of surprise. 

‘ ‘ That is no German officer ! ” he exclaimed. He 
bent over again and Fred winced as he saw him 
shaking Boris by the shoulder. He wondered if 
Boris was shamming, or if he had really fainted. 
Then it was plain that there was no pretence. The 
officer, gently enough, raised Boris’s head, and 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


211 


taking a flask from his pocket, forced a little of the 
spirits it contained into Boris ’s mouth. Fred saw 
his cousin stiffen; he was coming to his senses. 
Then the officer let him down, but made a sort of 
pillow for him with a cushion that had been 
thrown out of the automobile when it was over- 
turned. 

‘^Feel better? Good!’^ he said. ^^Now tell me 
what happened! Where are the two officers who 
were in the car? Were they hurt?’’ 

‘ ^ I — do not know, ’ ’ said Boris. 

Fred had to strain his ears to catch what Boris 
said. Boris was weak and exhausted, and Fred 
was glad that the German officer seemed kindly 
and disposed to be humane. 

‘Wou do not know? How is that? You were 
in the car with them, weren’t you?” 

was in the car, but I do not know what hap- 
pened after the accident. I was thrown out — and 
I did not know anything until you roused me just 
now. ’ ’ 

^'But what were you doing in the car, then? 


212 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


Who were those officers? Where were they 
going?'' 

^^I do not know. I know only that I Was walk- 
ing along the road, because all the people had 
been sent away from their homes, when the car 
stopped, and a man told me to get in and sit low, 

so that I should not be seen. Then we drove very 

% 

fast and after a while there was a crash, and I was 
thrown out." 

Can you walk?" 

The German's tone had changed somewhat. It 
was anxious now, and puzzled. 

‘ ‘ I — don 't know, ' ' said Boris. ‘ ‘ There is a pain 
in my leg — here, right above the ankle. Ouch!" 

Fred saw the German officer slip his hand down 
over the spot to which Boris pointed, and his touch 
dragged the exclamation of pain from Boris. 

‘‘You can't walk, that's certain!" said the Ger- 
man. “You've got pluck, boy! There's a nasty 
break there. You need a surgeon! Well, I'll have 
to do what I can for you until we can find one. Can 
you stand a little more pain? Niehoff, give me 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


your emergency kit. You have the sp ^ ; 

I shall see what I can do. ^ ’ 

He was busy for a moment. Then with a ser- 
geant, evidently his second in command, he with- 
drew to be out of Borises hearing. But as it 
chanced, his movement brought him to a point 
where it was easier than ever for Fred to hear 
everything he said. 

‘‘There is something deuced queer about this 
business! said the officer. “I think this boy is 
telling the truth, but we saw two officers in the 
front seat of that car. That much was certain. 
They were not ground into powder in the accident, 
you know. If they had been killed, there would be 
something left of them. They got out all right — 
that^s evident. And they made themselves scarce. 
They must have known we would come, and if 
they have gone so quickly, it is because they did 
not want us to see them at close quarters. ’ ^ 
“Spies, you think asked the sergeant. 
“Evidently! But how they got here I^d hate to 
guess! They came from a quarter where we are in 


m RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


' xplete control. Yet they stole one of our cars, 
and a couple of uniform coats and helmets, at 
least!’’ 

‘‘We can look further for them,” said the ser- 
geant. 

“Yes — and one might look a long time in a hay- 
stack before one found a needle! However, let the 
men spread out along the road and see what they 
can find. Give the order ! ’ ’ 

Fred sighed with relief. He had been right in 
his decision to stay where he was, as he under- 
stood fully when he saw the soldiers go off down 
the road, looking for some trace of the passing of 
the two imaginary officers. Meanwhile the officer 
went back to Boris. 

“We’ll take this lad back with us,” he said to 
the sergeant. “He needs attention, and I prefer 
to give someone in higher authority a chance to 
talk to him. This is a very mysterious affair, all 
around. It is too much for my brain!” 

“And for mine, too!” grumbled the sergeant. 
“If I had my way, we would have orders to shoot 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


215 


all suspicious characters first and find out whether 
they deserved it or not afterward. I thought we 
should stop that automobile when we saw it com- 
ing.’’ 

‘ ‘ And I did not, ’ ’ said the officer, sharply. 

The sergeant said nothing more. 

Soon the men returned from their fruitless 
search. Then a litter was improvised and Boris 
was placed upon it and taken away. Fred had 
been very fearful for it had seemed more than 
likely to him that a sentry would be left to watch 
the wreck. If that had been done, it would have 
complicated his position, because he could scarce- 
ly have hoped to get out of his shelter without 
making some noise. But this was a precaution 
that apparently did not suggest itself to the Ger- 
mans. 

And so, as soon as they were well out of hearing, 
Fred scrambled out, leaving his dangerous coats 
and helmets behind, and began trudging boldly 
along the road. He did not know the character 
of the wooded section through which the road now 


216 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


ran, and it seemed to him that he would be safer 
in the road than if he tried to walk under cover. 

Fred was very tired. And, now that the excite- 
ment was fading, he was beginning to realize that 
he had not escaped entirely scatheless from the 
wreck of the car. Every bone and muscle in his 
body was sore and aching, and he wondered how 
many black and blue spots he would find when he 
got a chance to look for them. 

By Ivan’s reckoning, he had something like two 
miles to go to reach the Russian outposts. He was 
now in a sort of No Man’s Land that lay between 
the two armies. And, indeed, before long, he saw 
fires twinkling ahead — the fires of the Russians. 
That was as he came to the crossroad of which 
Boris had spoken. It seemed that his troubles 
must be nearly over. And just then he heard a 
clatter of hoofs and saw, riding up the crossroad 
toward him, a troop of German Uhlans. He began 
running. But they had seen him and gave chase. 
He dared not stop. On he ran, hoping that the 
Russians were nearer than their fires. 


CHAPTER XVn 


AN OLD ENEMY 

Suddenly over Fred ’s head there was a peculiar 
whistling. He had never heard that sound before, 
but somehow he knew by instinct what it was. He 
was under fire! Behind him were the shots, but 
the firing was wild and at random. He plunged 
into the bushes now, for to do so was to choose the 
lesser of two evils. He was fairly safe, so shel- 
tered from the bullets, since if they could not see 
him, the Uhlans would not be likely to fire at him 
at all. And while it was certain that they could 
follow him in and catch him if he stayed in the 
brush, he would delay them at least, and the Rus- 
sians were so near that they might hear the firing 
and come up. 

That came about even sooner than he had 
thought possible. He stopped, panting. The Uh- 
lans were close on his trail by this time, and he 
heard them coming up. But then came a sudden 

217 


218 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


shouting of orders, and, a moment later, a furious 
fusillade that was answered from the Russian 
side. Over the rattle of the firing, too, came a 
sound he remembered well, though he had heard it 
only once before — the yelling of charging Cos- 
sacks. For the second time the wild Russian horse- 
men had come to his rescue in the nick of time ! 

But this time there was more of a fight, since 
the two little bodies of horsemen were far more 
evenly matched than had been the case when 
General Suvaroff had led his daring raid behind 
the German lines in the effort to capture von Hin- 
denburg. For five minutes the fighting was fast 
and furious. Fred could hear the clash of steel 
against steel and the spiteful spitting of revolvers 
and automatic pistols. Then the wild Russian 
shout of victory arose, and he heard sounds of 
galloping fast dying away. Even though he could 
see nothing, he knew which side had won. 

^ ^ Thank Heaven ! ’ ^ he said to himself. ‘ ‘ I won- 
der if they couldn’t chase them and raid the cul- 
vert. There aren’t so many troops there! Then 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


219 


we could surely get Boris away from them.’^ 

But the first thing to do, of course, was to come 
out of his cover and make himself known to his 
rescuers. There was a certain risk in even that 
simple procedure, and Fred was not so carried 
away by the excitement of the fight as to forget it. 
There was more than a chance that if he broke out, 
the Russians would mistake him for some German 
who had tried to escape by taking refuge in the 
brush, and that they would shoot without waiting 
to make sure. But he had to take the chance, and 
he minimized the risk as much as he could by tying 
his white handkerchief to a stick and carrying it 
before him as he pushed his way into the ditch. 

He waved this as he emerged. At first no one 
saw him. Then a Cossack spied him and sent his 
horse straight at him. Fred leaped aside as he 
saw that the man meant to ride him down, and, 
shouting, waved his white flag. He dodged the 
first assault, but the Cossack spun his pony around 
in little more than his own length, and waving his 
dangerous lance, came at him again. He shouted 


220 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


again, and waved his white flag harder than ever. 
That would not have saved him, however, 
but just as the Cossack lunged and Fred threw 
himself down, sure that he would either he speared 
or trampled by the horse, an officer dashed up and 
struck up the lance with his sword. 

‘‘Don’t you see the white flag?” he roared. “We 
do not kill men who surrender ! ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ They say that the Germans are hanging every 
Cossack they capture,” said the man, sullenly. 

“Never mind what they say!” said the officer. 
‘ ‘ Hello ! That man is not a soldier at all! ” 

“Neither soldier nor German!” cried Fred in 
Russian, springing up. ‘ ‘ Those Uhlans were chas- 
ing me! I have just escaped from the German 
lines. I did not think that I should fare as badly 
among my friends as among the enemy ! ’ ’ 

“Nor shall you, fritud!” said the Russian 
officer with a laugh. “So you are a Russian? 
Well, you look as if you might be anything!” 

“I’m afraid I do,” said Fred, a bit ruefully. 
He could imagine, even though he could not see 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


221 


himself, that the Russian was quite right. He was 
caked with dirt. In the fall from the automobile, 
as he had discovered while he was walking away 
from the wreck, he had sustained a nasty cut over 
the eye, which, though it was not painful, had bled 
a good deal. And this had made his appearance 
even worse than it had been before. His clothes 
were tom, too. 

‘‘Who are you, and where do you come from?^^ 
asked the Russian. 

In a few words Fred told his story. When he said 
that he had left Boris SuvarofP a prisoner at the 
culvert, with a broken leg, the officer started. 

“Can’t you go after him?” Fred pleaded. 

‘ ‘ They have very few men there. You could sweep 
them away.” 

“Not with this force. And I should not dare 
to go so far without special orders,” said the offi- 
cer. “We could not charge the culvert, and, ap- 
proaching it from this side, we should have to ride 
uphill. But I am sure that when those in com- 
mand know your story, a force will be sent to 


222 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


rescue Prince Boris. Come with us now. I will 
get you a horse if you are able to ride. The Uhlans 
left some behind!^’ 

Fred could ride, and said so. And in a few 
minutes he was riding toward the fires that twin- 
kled before them, side by side with the Russian 
officer, who was anxious to know all that Fred 
could tell him. 

‘‘That was splendid!^’ he cried enthusiastically 
when he heard how Fred had discovered the real 
purpose of the Germans by his ruse in pretending 
to be deaf and dumb. ‘ ‘ And it means, too, that we 
will get some real work to do here in this quarter. 
I thought at first that the army in the north would 
get all the fighting. We have been sitting here for 
nearly a week, doing nothing. This is the first 
skirmish we have had, for our orders are not to 
bring on an action, but only to prevent the enemy 
from coming toward us if they show any sign of 
attacking.’’ 

‘ ‘ If what I have heard is true, there will be an 
advance from this quarter soon,” said Fred. “If 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


223 


the Germans are to be outflanked, it must be by 
the troops here. And that ought to mean as much 
fighting as anyone could hope to get.^’ 

‘ ‘ That is what we are looking for, ’ ^ said the offi- 
cer. ‘‘But you — you will be glad of a rest for a 
time, I should think!’’ 

“I want to get my cousin back,” said Fred. “It 
was hard to leave him.” 

‘ ‘ It was the only thing to do. You saved his life 
as well as your own by going. And one who saves 
a Suvaroffi does a fine thing for Russia in these 
days — if this Boris is like the rest of the breed. ’ ’ 

“Oh, we have never known!” said Fred, sud- 
denly remembering. “Did General Suvaroffi get 
back safely after he failed to catch General von 
Hindenburg?” 

‘ ‘ He did ! He had less than a thousand men, and 
he rode for sixty miles or more through a whole 
German army! He was intercepted but when he 
found a German brigade lined up in his path, in- 
stead of trying to circle around it, and so giving 
the Germans time to surround him, he cut right 


224 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


through it!’^ answered the officer, smiling. 

' ‘ That was splendid ! ’ ’ 

^ ‘ I don T think the war will show anything bet- 
ter! said the Russian, with enthusiasm. ‘^He 
charged before the Germans knew that he was 
fairly upon them, and the whole fight lasted less 
than ten minutes. Then our fellows were through 
and riding for our lines. And the best of it was 
that not more than fifty of our saddles were emp- 
tied. The Germans are wonderful fighters, I be- 
lieve. We shall have a hard time beating them. 
But they fight too much by rule. A German cav- 
alry commander would have been brave enough to 
try to do that, but he would not have tried because 
he would have known that it was an unsound 
plan. ’ ’ 

^'I wish Boris knew that his father was safe,’’ 
said Fred, a little sadly. '‘He has been worried, 
although he has said nothing. ’ ’ 

"Eh — he might have known it! Yes, he got 
back safely enough. As to whether he is safe now, 
that is another matter. He is in the thick of the 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


225 


fighting around Gumbinnen, and he is not one of 
those generals who stay in the rear. He is like 
Skobelefi. Have you heard of him!’’ 

“He commanded at Plevna, against the 
Turks!” 

“And in a good many other battles! Skobeleff, 
though he was in command of the whole army, 
would insist always on being in the thick of the 
fighting himself. He wore his white coat, and he 
rode a white horse. So he was always to he seen 
by his own men and by the enemy. Perhaps he 
was wrong, but soldiers will fight better for a gen- 
eral who shares their perils. Skobeleff used to do 
impossible things, because he believed that noth- 
ing was impossible that brave men made up their 
minds to do.” 

Fred thought of Russian generals in the war 
with Japan who might have changed the whole 
course of that conflict had they had such ideas. 
But he said nothing of this. Russian soldiers were 
mindful of that disastrous war, he thought. And 
Fred had an idea that before this far greater strug- 


226 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


gle was over, the world would have been forced to 
forget the failures of Manchuria. Men who fought 
as he had seen Russians do were not going to be 
beaten again. 

Fred was mounted now on a big, rawboned horse 
that had lost its Uhlan rider. He was so tired that 
he was swaying in his saddle, and the Russian no- 
ticed this. 

‘^Keep awake a little longer,^’ he said, cheerily. 
^ ‘ We haven ’t very much further to go. In half an 
hour, I think, you can be in a real bed, with sheets 
and blankets.’’ 

don’t need anything like that,” said Fred, 
rousing himself and smiling. think I could 
sleep on a board that was studded with nails! And 
I know that they could tight a battle all around 
me to-night without waking me up when I once 
get to sleep.” 

” I ’d like to let you stop here — -we are within our 
lines now — but I know the staff will want to see 
you and ask a few questions. And you have done 
so much already for Russia that I believe you will 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


227 


want to do that much more before you rest/^ 

‘ ^ Oh, a few minutes more or less won ’t make any 
difference!’’ said Fred. He yawned hugely. ^UAs 
long as I’m awake, I can make myself stay awake. 
If I once let go, though, I promise you I’ll he liard 
to rouse 1 ’ ’ 

There were more Russians about here than Fred 
had supposed. It was plain that since Ivan had 
had any information as to the conditions here, re- 
enforcements had been brought up, for it was not 
through outposts that they were riding, but 
through a large body of troops. Tents stretched 
in all directions and fires were numerous, dot- 
ting the fields like stars. There were no woods 
here; it was open country again. To the left Fred 
caught a glimpse of the silver sheen of a river re- 
flecting the starlight. 

^‘How far are you going to take me?” asked 
Fred. 

^^To headquarters. We have less than half a 
mile to ride now. The general will be glad to see 
you. ’ ’ 


.228 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


The Russian chuckled, and there seemed to be a 
hidden meaning in his laugh. At any other time, 
when he was less weary, Fred would have noticed 
that. He would have wondered at it, at least; he 
might even have guessed its meaning. But now he 
only asked, quite idly: ‘‘Who is in command of the 
troops here 1 ’ ^ 

“You will soon know,^^ said the Russian, repeat- 
ing his chuckle. 

Fred did, indeed, soon get the answer to his 
question. They rode up to a small farmhouse, 
ablaze with light, late as it was. The place was 
well guarded. The Russian officer slipped off his 
horse. 

“Wait one minute,’’ he said. He went, and re- 
turned at once. Then he led the way inside. Amd 
Fred, all weariness banished by the sight, stared 
into the cold, evil eyes of Mikail Suvaroff, wear- 
ing his general’s uniform. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE GREAT WHITE CZAR 

There was a moment of absolute, chilling si- 
lence; the sort of silence that, in the old phrase, 
can be felt. For just an instant it was plain that 
Mikail Suvarotf did not recognize the nephew he 
hated. But then he knew him, and a flash of cold, 
malignant hatred lit up his eyes, while his lips 
curved in a curious, sneering smile. , 

‘ ‘ So — it is you T ' he said. ‘ ‘ I thought I had not 
seen the last of you on the platform at VirballenI 
Lieutenant, you may leave us.^^ 

Yes, general,^’ said the lieutenant who had res- 
cued Fred. He was plainly puzzled and confused. 

did not tell your kinsman that you were in 
command here. I thought he would be delight- 
fully surprised by being confronted with you sud- 
denly. But — 

‘‘Exactly! You were quite right, lieutenant. 
And now you may leave us!^’ 

229 


230 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


The lieutenant flushed at the rebuke, saluted 
stiffly, and left the room. 

Fred was alone with his uncle. 

‘‘You are brave, at least, said Mikail, pres- 
ently. “That will, perhaps, be a comfort to you 
later. Yet you were not well advised to serve the 
Germans as a spy. They have not been able to 
save you from me this time, you see. It is not a 
case this time of the station at Virballen, with 
the superiority of numbers on their side for the 
moment. ^ ’ 

“It is your Cossacks who saved me from the 
Germans, said Fred. “I have been a spy — but 
it has been in the interest of Eussia. General 
Alexander Suvaroff and his son can tell you that.’’ 

“Perhaps,” said Mikail, his eyes and mouth 
fixed, so that no one could have guessed what was 
in his mind. “It is strange that you feel forced to 
call upon those who cannot say anything for or 
against you — since they are in the hands of the 
Germans. ’ ’ 

Inspiration came suddenly to Fred, and he said 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


231 


nothing. He gave his uncle stare for stare. 

''Well, what have you to sayT^ said Mikail, at 
last. "What defence have you, spy?^^ 

Still Fred said nothing, and he saw the veins 
in MikaiUs hands swelling with anger. 

"SoF^ he said, when he understood that Fred 
would not speak. "Well, there will be a way to 
make you talk, doubtless. I might have you shot 
now — or hung. But you are my nephew. You 
shall have the fairest of trials, for it must not be 
said that I did not see that you were well treated!^’ 
He chuckled ominously. Then he raised his voice. 
In answer to his call two officers came in. 

"You will be held personally responsible for 
this prisoner,’’ he said. "He is to be sent at once 
to Grodno for trial as a spy. I will dictate the 
process accusing him. Let him be dispatched in 
the morning, under heavy guard.” 

The officers saluted. Then soldiers were called 
and Fred was led away. From the first he realized 
the utter hopelessness of any attempt to escape. 
He was in the midst of a great army. He could not 


232 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


hope, no matter what happened, to get more than 
a few yards in any direction. Yet even the thought 
of his peril did not keep him awake. No sooner 
was he put in the guard room, where half a dozen 
soldiers were with him, than he sank into a heavy 
sleep. He was too tired, in fact, to realize to the 
full how serious the matter was. 

But in the morning, when he was roused to par- 
take of a meal, the full and dreadful peril of his 
situation came over him. There was something 
appalling about the way in which his guards 
looked at him. Most of all, there was a terrible 
quality in the sympathy of the young lieutenant 
who paid him a hurried visit. 

did not know, of course, he said, quickly, 
should have had to take you to him, just as I 
did, but I should have prepared you for what was 
coming. I have heard something of the story. You 
have aroused the general ^s hatred — and there are 
terrible stories of his power. Tell me, is there 
anyone who can speak for you? It may be that I 
can get some word to them — though it would cost 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


233 


me dear if Prince Mikail discovered that I had 
done it/^ 

'‘Boris Suvaroff and his father would help me/' 
said Fred. "But Boris is a prisoner, and so is 
Prince Alexander, if nay uncle tells the truth! And 
the American ambassador — though I suppose he 
could do nothing." 

"I will do what I can. And remember that 
Dmitri Sazonoff is your friend, and will believe 
always that you are a true friend of Russia. Good- 
bye! You go to Grodno. There, unless there has 
been a change, are the headquarters of the Grand 
Duke Nicholas Nicholavitch, who is in supreme 
command of all our armies. You will be tried there 
by court-martial. I wish it meant more — but count 
upon me for all that I can do. ' ' 

It was still comparatively early when Fred be- 
gan his journey to Grodno, which was, as he knev/, 
one of the concentration points of the Russian 
army. The trip was begun in a great motor truck, 
empty now, which had been used to bring food and 
ammunition to the front. It was one of a long 


234 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


train of similar vehicles, and in it he rode to the 
border, where he was transferred to a military 
train. 

He was able on the trip to see what was going 
on, since no attempt was made to keep him from 
doing so. And everything he saw served only to 
impress him more and more with the ntter hope- 
lessness of his position. The roads were choked 
with dense masses of advancing Russians. Troops, 
horse and foot, hospital trains, ammunition and 
provision trains, guns — all were moving up; evi- 
dently in preparation for the striking of a heavy 
blow at the German power in East Prussia on a 
new line of attack. 

For the first time Fred saw a country that was 
really in the grip of a modem army. The swift 
movements of the German army around the Suva- 
roff house had not given this impression. There 
were not so many Germans, relatively speaking at 
least, and their movements were made with less 
confusion and greater speed, owing to their pos- 
session of railways that had been built with an 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


235 


especial view to their being used in time of war. 

Here the railways had all been destroyed by the 
Germans who had retreated before the advancing 
Russians. In many places, too, fields had been 
burned over, that the standing crops might not 
fall into the hands of the invaders. 

Fred almost laughed at the irony of the whole 
sight. It was because of him that this movement 
was being made. At great risk to himself he had 
obtained the information that had led to the sud- 
den change in the Russian plans, of which the 
great movement he saw was a part. He should be 
receiving tlianks and honors instead of being on 
his way to headquarters as a prisoner of war, con- 
demned, as he well knew, in advance. For Fred 
had no illusions. He knew the power of Mikail 
SuvarofP, who was so plainly an important mem- 
ber of the high Russian command. Against so 
great a man his word would be valueless. 

^^This Russian army is like a steam roller,’’ 
Fred thought to himself. ^ ‘ It may be stopped here 
or there, but not for long. It will roll over this 


236 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


whole country sooner or later. Well — I’m glad! 
Even if I’ve got to suffer because my uncle hates 
me, it ’s not Russia ’s fault. I want Russia to win. ’ ’ 

His guards treated Fred well enough. He had 
an idea that he owed the consideration he received 
to Lieutenant Sazonoff. He was quite sure that 
General Mikail Suvaroff had nothing to do with it! 
And his journey, which might have been one of 
acute discomfort, was made more than tolerable. 

It was late when the train in which he rode after 
the border was reached arrived in Grodno. Here 
the army was in complete possession. Men in uni- 
form were everywhere; the civilian population 
seemed almost to have disappeared. The din was 
constant. For hours, after he had been taken to a 
cell in the central police station, he lay awake and 
listened. Guns rumbled through the streets, motor 
cars chugged all through the night. He was 
aroused in the morning by sounds of frantic, 
steady cheering, and when the guard brought him 
his breakfast, he asked what that meant. The 
man ’s eyes lighted up. 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


237 


Til© Littl© Father has come to be with his sol- 
diers!^’ he said. ‘^He has come to give us his 
blessing and bid us fight for him and Holy Russia! 
How can we lose now?” 

‘^The Czar himself?” said Fred. He smiled. He 
had hoped, when he left America, to see the Czar 
before his return. There was small chance of that 
now, even though they were in the same town. 

The Russians delayed as little as had the Ger- 
mans in bringing him to trial. And here in Grodno 
there was even less ceremony than there had 
been in the dining-room of the East Prussian par- 
sonage. 

A young officer was assigned to defend him, but 
he took the task as a joke. 

You ’ll be condemned, of course,” he said. 

Prince Mikail knows you are a spy. I think 
you’re very lucky that he didn’t hang you outside 
of his own headquarters ! Better plead guilty. It 
will save time for everyone.” 

But Fred refused. Hopeless as the case was, he 
was still determined to take every chance there 


238 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


was, and to fight for every minute of delay. But 
the proceedings were soon over. The charge against 
him was read so quickly that he could scarcely 
follow it. He was allowed to speak for himself, 
but none of the officers of the court paid any atten- 
tion to him. The verdict was quickly found. And 
the president of the court was just about to pro- 
nounce sentence when there was an interruption. 
Into the room strode a man at whose entrance 
every officer started to his feet, saluting. The new- 
comer jerked his hand to his forehead, answering 
the salute, and then stood staring about. 

Fred had never seen such a figure. The man was 
a giant. He wore a khaki uniform. He was nearly 
seven feet tall, but he was so magnificently formed 
that it was only the way he towered over even the 
tall Russian officers about him that his great 
height was apparent. Fred knew him at once. It 
was the Grand Duke Nicholas. 

‘‘The court is dissolved! he said, in a harsh, 
rasping voice. “I will take charge myself of the 
prisoner. Boy, come with me!’’ 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


239 


Utterly amazed, Fred obeyed. The Grand Duke 
seized his arm in a vise-like grip and half pushed, 
half dragged him along with him. Fred was too 
amazed even to wonder what had happened or 
what was to happen next. He found himself being 
led into a room that was filled with officers. They 
were grouped about one end of the room, where, 
near a window, there stood a short man in a bril- 
liant uniform. Fred gasped as he recognized him. 
At the same moment the grip on his arm was loos- 
ened, and the Grand Duke Nicholas swept off his 
cap. 

‘‘Your Majesty,’’ he said, “this is the American 
boy of whom we have heard. One who has done 
such things as he is charged with must hear his 
fate from your own lips. He is charged by Mikail 
Suvaroff with being a spy and a traitor. On the 
other hand — ” 

The Gzar smiled. 

“Thanks to our good Alexander, we know the 
truth,” he said. “By your kinship to the great 
family of Suvaroff, Frederick Waring, you are of 


240 


IN RUSSIAN TRENCHES 


our kin. Were you a -Russian, there would be an- 
other reward that we might give you. But you own 
your father’s nationality, though you have proved 
that there is good Russian blood in your veins. It 
is our pleasure to confer on you the order of St. 
Stanislas, with the crossed swords, given for brav- 
ery only ! Now you may go to the cousin who came 
here in time to save you.” 

Dazed, Fred backed away, knowing only that he 
had not done the right thing. A hand fell on his 
shoulder and he looked up into the eyes of Boris ’s 
father. 

^ ‘ Boris is waiting for you, ’ ’ he said. ‘ ‘ The mys- 
tery of Mikail’s hatred for you has been solved. 
He is quite mad — he has been relieved of his com- 
mand. I have long suspected this madness and 
now the whole world knows it! Your trials are 
over, my American cousin ! ” 

“But how was Boris rescued?” 

“Your friend Lieutenant Sazonoff managed 
that. He got permission from his brigadier to at- 
tack the railway. I shall see that he is promoted. ’ ’ 


THE BRADEN BOOKS 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 

By JAMES A. BRADEN 

The sub-title “Two Boy Pioneers” indicates the nature of this 
^ the Ohio Valley and 

the Northwest country were sparsely settled. Such a topic is an 
uniamng fund of interest to boys, especially when involving a 
couple of stalwart young men who leave the East to make their 
sortunes and to incur untold dangers. 

“ Strong, vigorous, healthy, manly .” — Seattle Times. 

CONNECTICUT BOYS IN 
THE WESTERN RESERVE 

By JAMES A. BRADEN 

The author orice more sends his heroes toward the setting sun. 
“ In all the glowing enthusiasm of youth, the youngsters seek their 
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eventually achieve fair success, though their progress is hindered 
and sometimes halted by adventures innumerable. It is a lively, 
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love the fabled life of the frontier .”- — Chicago Tribune, 

THE TRAIL of THE SENECA 

By JAMES A. BRADEN 

In which we follow the romantic careers of John Jerome and 
Return Kingdom a little farther. 

These two self-reliant boys are living peaceably in their cabin 
on the Cuyaho^ when an Indian warrior is found dead in the 
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prove futile and the lone cabin is found in ashes on their return. 

C A P T I V E S THREE 

By JAMES A. BRADEN 

A tale of frontier life, and how three children — two boys and a 
girl — attempt to reach the settlements in a canoe, but are captured 
by the Indians. A common enough occurrence in the days of our 
great-grandfathers has been woven into a thrilling story. 


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Sy }EAN K. BAIRD 
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At The Hall, a boys* school, there is a set of boys 
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Rush Petriken, a hunchback boy, comes to The Hall, 
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hailed as “little Rhody,” the “capitalest State of all.” 

CLOTH, 12 mo, illustrated, - $1.50 


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Four boys, all bubbling over with energy and love 
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Mrs. Ransom is widely known by her patriotic work 
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for them. 

CLOTH, 12 mo, illustrated, - $1.50 
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BETTY. The SCRIBE 

Bjy LILIAN TURNER 
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Betty is a brilliant, talented, impulsive seventeen-year-old girl, 
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Betty writes, too, and every time she mounts her Pegasus dis- 
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story. 

“ Miss Turner is Miss Alcott’s true successor. The same healthy, 
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CLOTH, 1 2 mo, illustrated, - $1.50 

E^lizaLbeth Hobecrt 
dtt X e t e r H at 1 1 

By JEAN K. BAIRD 

Illustrated by R. G. Vosburgh 

A spirited story of every-day boarding-school life that girls 
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Elizabeth enters the school and loses no time in becoming one 
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CLOTH, 1 2 mo, illustrated, - $1.50 
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RALPH MARLOWE 

A Tale of the Buckeye State 

By 

DR. JAMES BALL NAYLOR 

Author of “THE SIGN OP THE PROPHET” 


•^ere la an afmoaphcre 
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MARLOWE-thc picturesque 
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Get tfiis novel and read it — 
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These two books of adventure for boys, by the popular author of the 
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thousands and thousands of boys everywhere. 


CASTLEMON SERIES: 

A STRUQOLE A FORTUNE 

WINGED ARROW’S MEDICINE 
THE FIRST CAPTURE 

Harry Castlemon ranks among the best of the writers of juvenile fiction. 
His various books are in constant and large demand by the boys who have 
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THREE YOUNG RANCHMEN 

Stories of western life that are full of adventure, which read as if they hap- 
peaed day before yesterday. 

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DOWN THE AMAZON 
ADRIFT ON A JUNK 
YOUNG VOYAGERS OP THE NILE 
YOUNG CASTAWAYS 

For boys who have had their fill of adventures on land, the Rathborws 
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OTIS SERIES: 

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TELEGRAPH TOM DOWN WE SLOPE 

James Otis writes for wide-awake American boys, and his audience read 
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The young child asks of the parent explanations of the 
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Young Voyagers 

of Nile 

By 8U George Bathbome 

“Larry Kennedy, an American boy, is paddling 
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The two boys join forces, and have many adventures 
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interest the boy reader .” — American Boy. 

M “Egypt and the Nile is an inexhaustible field for the writer of juvenile 
ffiction, and in this story Mr. Rathbome ha* managed to embody something 
original as well as exciting. ” — Boston Transcript. 

Adrift on A Junk 

■If 

I By 8U George Bathbome 

■ Julian Roxbury finds himself in Chinese waters, 
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By St. George Bathbome 

Drifting in a leaking boat, Teddy McGregor over- 
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“The action is rapid and the adventures sufficiently 
exciting for the most exacting boy ." — The Bookseller. 







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Mary £^. Irela^nd Books 


Pixy’s Holiday Journey; 


't ^ 

Timothy at.nd His Friends 


Pixy's Holiday Journey 

By Mary E. Ireland 

The story of many a boy is very closely interwoven with the fortunes of 
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When three German schoolboys plan a walking trip to Frankfort-on-the- 
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Cloth, i2mo, illustrated, $i.oo. 



Timothy and His Friends 

By Mary E. Ireland 

A poor little newsboy in New York City is the proud owner of a dog 
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How Timothy finds his little playmate who crosses the ocean with him, and 
who Mark Ogilvie really is, will prove interesting reading to all 

CTnfch , i2mo, illustrated, $i.oa 



SEA TALES 

DOWN THE AMAZON 

THE YOUNG CASTAWAYS 

ADRIFT ON A JUNK 

YOUNG VOYAGERS 

OF THE NILE 


By 8T. aEOBGB BATHBOBNE 


\ St. George Rathborne is a name that is familiar to every boy who revek 

in adventures by sea. One fairly smells the salt breeze and hears the lapjdng 
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This clever inventor of adventures in strange climes for boys, carries his 
I heroes to Eg^pt and to South America, to the Caribbean and the pirate-haunted 
I islands of the Eastern Archipelago, does not stick at improbabilities, but has 
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Down The Amazon 

By 8t, Georye Bathbome 


The story of a wonderful cruise in a canvas canoe, giving the adventures 
of a sixteen- year-old American lad and a Peruvian guide, floating in an open 
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I Every line fraught with interest 

I 246 pages, $1.00. 










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